


On the Outside Looking In

by storywriter55



Series: Neal and Sara's Wonderful Adventure [4]
Category: White Collar (TV 2009)
Genre: Angst, Belonging, Crime, Gen, Teamwork, Undercover As Gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:01:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 53,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storywriter55/pseuds/storywriter55
Summary: The annual FBI commendation dinner is coming up and the team is about to receive an award of excellence – but where does Neal fit in? Part of the 'Neal and Sara's Wonderful Adventure' series (Week 16).
Relationships: Neal Caffrey/Sara Ellis, Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey
Series: Neal and Sara's Wonderful Adventure [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995649
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

Neal moaned as he drifted through that fleeting and unsettling state of consciousness, somewhere on the continuum between blissful sleep and rude awakening. He could hear the sound of retching off in the distance and he sat up abruptly, coming to as reality finally kicked in. Regrettably, the all-too-familiar sounds coming from the bathroom had become commonplace lately, although with each passing day he’d dared to hope it would be the last. He padded over to the bathroom, taking a quick detour to grab a glass of water from the kitchen sink and he made his way to the back of the apartment. He stood in the doorway to the bathroom waiting patiently and taking in the unfortunate yet recurring scene before his eyes: Sara Ellis kneeling over the toilet bowl while her body heaved uncontrollably. 

After ten solid weeks of morning sickness, Neal and Sara had finally found a happy medium between him rushing to her side – which made Sara uncomfortable – and having to stay away completely – which made _him_ uncomfortable. He waited the obligatory few seconds until his girlfriend composed herself and sat back on her heels, indicating the worse of it was over and he bridged the gap between them, letting himself fall on the floor behind her and handing her the glass of water.

She looked up bleary-eyed, her face red and puffy and gave him a weak smile.

‘Aren’t you tired of this routine?’ she asked, her voice hoarse.

‘Not as much as you are’ he answered with a small encouraging smile.

She took the glass from his hand and brought it to her lips while Neal slid back, settling up against the wall and inviting her to let herself fall back against him. She was breathing roughly, still recuperating from the efforts associated with emptying her topsy-turvy stomach and she willingly let herself lean back against Neal’s chest, his arms opening to welcome her. She burped noisily and laughed out loud, unable to help herself – at this point, it was better than crying.

‘Quite the sexy girlfriend you’ve got there, Caffrey’ she said in a self-deprecatory tone.

‘I’m not complaining’ Neal replied, letting his arms slide around her waist and settling his hand on her ever expanding baby bump.

Truth was, he loved her burgeoning belly and he took every opportunity to run his hands over it, feeling its now familiar and comforting fullness as well as its amazing significance. His laptop had 13 different pregnancy websites on his ‘favourites’ list that he consulted daily, getting all the information anyone could ever possibly want on the various stages of pregnancy and he reported diligently every night as they prepared to fall asleep. Of course, that didn’t keep him from prattling on hours on end to anyone who would care to listen including, to their utter chagrin, Mozzie, Peter and all of his co-workers at the White Collar Unit.

‘I’m sorry you have to go through this every day’ he whispered in her ear, his tone empathetic.

‘It’s not your fault I’m in the minority of women who are still having morning sickness at week 16’ she said, letting her head drop back on his shoulder.

She felt him flinch and instinctively pulled forward in response; Neal had suffered a gunshot wound to the shoulder three weeks earlier and although it had been no more than a graze really, certain movements still caused him discomfort – though he tried to downplay it for Sara’s sake.

‘Still hurts, huh?’ she asked as she placed her hand on top of his on her belly.

‘Barely’ Neal answered, pulling her back in to continue the impromptu snuggle.

The couple had experienced a very tumultuous beginning to Sara’s pregnancy. Back in early August, she’d found herself smack dab in the middle of a nasty recovery and she’d suffered a broken arm, a concussion and bruised ribs. Just three weeks ago, she’d ended up in hospital again with a placental abruption and Dr. Cooper had ordered her to take a week off work to rest and recuperate.Add to that the fact that Neal had gotten shot during the takedown on the Moretti case and they’d barely had a chance to settle into a ‘normal’ pattern of preparing for parenthood.

‘I don’t _feel_ like going to work’ Sara whined as she ran her hand languidly over Neal’s, an unusual admission for the typically overzealous insurance investigator.

‘Why don’t I see if I can get a day off later this week and we can do something special together?’ Neal suggested, kissing the side of her neck.

Since the Moretti case, things had been quiet at the office, Neal spending his days going over cold cases and the usual, boring mortgage frauds. Surely Peter wouldn’t begrudge his CI a day off to spend with his pregnant girlfriend after all the extra hours he’d put in lately.

‘I don’t know, Neal... I’ve only been back to work a couple of weeks’ she said wistfully.

‘I think Sterling Bosch owes you a _lot more_ than a couple of days off, don’t you?’

‘O-kay’ she answered slowly as a smile slowly returned to her face.

It _would_ be nice to spend some time together for a change, maybe doing lunch, shopping or just hanging out watching old movies, reconnecting after a busy few weeks.

‘I _do_ need some maternity clothes...’ she said turning to gauge Neal’s reaction.

Neal, Mr. Metrosexual, loved shopping and he gave her a big smile in response. He loved weighing in on her wardrobe and unbeknownst to her, he’d already picked up a number of outfits he’d squirrelled away in their large walk in closet as he waited for just the right moment to surprise her with them. 

‘Sure. And we could visit that new kids’ boutique down by the art district’ he added excitedly.

As it was, their small apartment was already overrun with baby clothes and Sara cringed every time she saw Neal arriving with another new purchase. 

‘Neal, you’ve got to stop buying clothes, we’re not even going to know the sex of the baby for a couple of weeks yet.’

He jostled her and continued nuzzling her neck as a means of diversion.

He’d gotten Mozzie to liquidate some of his ‘assets’ and he was having a hoot walking into the various kids’ boutiques in Manhattan and buying whatever his little heart desired, usually on a whim. He hadn’t told Sara yet but he’d been hoarding stuff in a second floor bedroom June had made available for him. It was chock full of toys and unisex clothing and Neal smiled at the thought – he couldn’t wait to show Sara all the great loot he’d picked up.

‘Feeling better?’ he asked as his hands slowly began to wander to other parts of her body, his intentions now shifting from comforting her to something entirely different.

‘Huh, huh’ Sara answered as she smiled naughtily and turned to face him.

WCWCWC

Peter watched as Neal strolled in to the White Collar Unit with a wide grin on his face and his usual annoying swagger.

‘Neal! You’re late!’ he said harshly as he greeted his CI.

Neal’s face grew serious and he gave his boss an eye roll, hoping for some indulgence; after all, it wasn’t his habit to be late.

‘Oh…’ Peter relented as he took in the look on Neal’s face. ‘Was Sara sick again this morning?’

Neal nodded and sighed, playing it up. Peter didn’t need to know that Sara was feeling anything but ‘sick’ by the time he’d finished giving her some Caffrey loving right there on their bathroom floor.

‘The morning sickness... it’s just not letting up’ Neal said, his face solemn.

‘Aww, that’s really too bad’ Peter answered sincerely.

He was more than pleased to see Neal settling into a more domestic way of life and far be it from him to stand between a man and his pregnant girlfriend especially when said girlfriend was Sara Ellis – but after three years of sharing his daily life with the conman, he _was_ wise to Neal’s tricks.

‘Look, MoMA is sending in someone to meet with us at eleven. You want to sit in?’ he asked.

He had a feeling he might be needing his CI’s insight on this new case, although the details were sketchy for the time being- something about paintings from their newly acquired collection of Mayan art.

‘Yeah, sure.’ Neal answered with his usual enthusiasm. Anything was better than facing that pile of never ending mortgage case files waiting for him on his desk.

Peter prepared to return to his office and stopped suddenly, turning towards his partner as he pointed an accusatory finger at Neal.

‘Oh, and Neal… you should know better than to use Sara’s delicate condition to cover up your early morning romp in the sheets’ he said as he turned on his heels and walked away.

WCWCWC

‘So?Any plans for tonight?’ Neal asked as he stopped by Jones’ desk on his way back from fetching coffee.

‘My mom’s in town so I’m taking her out to a Broadway show’ Jones said, his eyes still riveted on his computer screen.

‘Nice. You should take her to dinner at Nerai, over on 54th.Their tuna tartare is out of this world’ Neal said as he propped himself up on the edge of Clinton’s desk to continue the conversation.

‘You don’t know my mom, Caffrey. Pizza or fried chicken is more her thing’ Jones said as he looked up.

‘Well...tuna tartare _is_ an acquired taste, I suppose’ Neal admitted, realizing his suggestion hadn’t been very useful ‘But John’s Pizza in Times Square has this amazing brick oven...’

Neal could be counted on to have unlimited suggestions about restaurants and entertainment venues in the wider New York area, a testament to the high life he once lived and still strived for.

‘Thanks Caffrey’ Jones answered. ‘We just might give that a try.’

‘Neal!’ the men heard from up above.

Peter stood on the promenade, looking down sternly at his crew and he pointed in the direction of the conference room.

‘Looks like I’m being summoned’ Neal said as he stood to follow the sound of his master’s voice.

He sauntered up the steps, noticing a woman already seated in the conference room. She must have slipped by him while he was getting his coffee. Neal’s face tensed; he prided himself on being aware of all new arrivals in their offices. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him as instructed by Peter who was standing at the head of the table, poised to make the introductions.

‘Neal, this is Roseanne Lebeau, she’s one of the curators at MoMA’ he said as the woman rose to take Neal’s outstretched hand.

‘Ah, the infamous Neal Caffrey’ she said with a definite French accent as he smiled his megawatt smile.

She was a very classy looking lady, in her mid to late forties, Neal guessed, with a lot of grace and poise and in some strange way, she reminded him of June.

‘C’est un plaisir de faire votre connaissance’ Neal said in an attempt to impress the woman with his knowledge of the language of Molière.

She smiled, a small smile, not the one he was hoping for - the one he usually got when he hit a home run and impressed the hell out of unsuspecting marks, especially women. He drew back and dialled it down a notch; surely he’d find a way to make inroads, all he had to do was be patient.

‘Ms Lebeau is concerned that some pieces from their collection of Mayan paintings might have been tampered with or switched out for forgeries’ Peter explained.

Neal took a seat, his attention now focussed on what Peter was saying.

‘I brought in a piece that I suspect might not be an original’ she said as she reached behind her to pull a small painting out of a portfolio.

Now, Neal was interested, his eyes moving to the painting, eager to have a closer look. He glanced at the curator, silently asking for permission and took the small framed painting from her hands, making his way to the window to get the best light possible. Within mere seconds, he looked up, very cocky and sure of himself.

‘Well, there’s no doubt about it – this is a fake’ he said.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Sara Ellis stood and adjusted the snug dress once again before making her way to the outer office to speak with her new assistant. The dress kept riding up over her baby bump, driving her crazy as she grudgingly came to the realization that she had put off moving on to maternity clothes long enough. 

_Maternity clothes!_ she scoffed inwardly. 

Just the thought of those loose fitting potato sacks was repulsive. Sure, styles had changed over the years and there was some very high end, fashionable stuff available these days but Sara couldn’t help thinking of just how big she would eventually get and she wondered in passing if Neal would still be making the moves on her like he had that morning, once she was as big as a house. She thought back to the patient she’d seen last week in Dr. Cooper’s waiting room – the woman had nodded while she waited, snoring loudly and when she’d finally been called in to see the doctor, she’d barely been able to get up off the chair. Is that what the future held for her?

‘Eileen!’ she called out, her tone impatient.

The young woman was her third assistant in as many years and Sara hoped she would be the one to finally live up to her high expectations. Of course, the word around Sterling Bosch was that any sane person would rather poke their eyes out with toothpicks than work for Sara Ellis. She had a reputation as a pit bull, demanding, pushy and just plain nasty at times. But that was before those pregnancy hormones had started kicking in and Sara was determined to hang on to this new assistant who appeared to have all it took to keep up with her.

‘Over here’ Eileen responded from a hidden corner of the office where she was filing something away in the large cabinet.

‘I’m expecting Mrs. Jameson at eleven. Can you ask her to wait when she gets here? I have to make a call first’ Sara asked, forcing a most disingenuous smile. Damn dress was driving her nuts.

‘Sure thing’ said Eileen with a much more sincere grin.

Sara tugged at her dress once more and returned to her office, closing the door behind her. She rolled her eyes at no one in particular as she thought of the call she was about to make... to Mozzie. He had another lead for her, having taken to the generous compensation Sara slipped his way whenever he pointed her in the direction of a stolen item from the long list of uncovered items insured by Sterling Bosch. It was a win/win situation and she hoped Neal’s buddy wasn’t spreading himself too thin. If he kept ratting out those associates of his, he’d eventually get a reputation as a snitch and end up shooting himself in the foot. But that wasn’t her problem, she was just grateful for the leads and over the past six months, she’d recovered three pieces she would not have been able to find without Mozzie’s precious help.

The call to the number he had reluctantly shared with her went straight to voice mail - as expected. She listened to the odd outgoing message, preparing to respond in the agreed upon fashion although the whole covert thing was nothing but a major pain in the ass.

‘You’ve reached Mortensen’s Apothecary’ the voice which was definitely not Mozzie’s said. ‘We are pleased to fill your order as soon as possible. Leave your prescription number and sit by your phone for instructions.’

Sara responded as she’d been instructed, thankful there was no one within earshot to witness the senseless rhetoric. ‘This is Rosanna-dana-dana’ she said, rolling her eyes and trying desperately to keep a straight face. She hesitated for a moment, tempted to go off script but thinking better of it – it would just throw Mozzie off and make the whole painful experience even more excruciating ‘I’m calling to report... to report a sighting of a crop circle in my backyard.’

She hung up and waited. The lengths she’d go to for a recovery! The phone rang almost immediately and this time, Sara recognized Mozzie’s voice even through the Russian surplus voice changer he insisted on using.

‘This is Copernicus’ he said. ‘How can I help you?’

‘Mozzie, it’s– ‘ Sara began before she was cut off.

‘Copernicus’ Mozzie corrected on the other end of the line.

‘Fine! Copernicus…’ Sara repeated with a long sigh. ‘Is the swap still on for tomorrow?’

‘I know nothing of a swap’ Mozzie answered, that recognizable lilt in his voice. ‘But I _can_ meet you at four o’clock this afternoon at our usual spot.’

‘But Moz - Copernicus... Is this really necessary? I’ve got a really busy day ahead of me.’

Her question was answered by silence, Mozzie’s stubbornness peeking through.

‘Fine, fine. I’ll be there’ she said before hanging up.

This one better be worth it, she thought.

WCWCWC

‘Are you sure it’s a forgery?’ Peter asked as he watched Neal continue to scrutinize the small painting.

‘This is a Rivera, right?’ Neal asked as he turned to face their guest, giving her a self-satisfied smile.

She nodded silently in response, somewhat impressed by his obvious knowledge of the genre.

‘Circa 1925?’ Neal asked, already knowing the answer to his question.

‘1926’ she responded as Neal glanced smugly at Peter.

‘This type of canvas wasn’t widely available until the 1950’s’ Neal said. ‘There’s no way this is an original – although the technique _is_ very good... ‘ he added as he continued to examine (or was that admire) the forgery.

As much as Peter hated Neal’s smug, arrogant attitude, he was always in awe of his extensive and all encompassing knowledge of all styles and periods and he begrudgingly had to admit that, since his release, Neal had been instrumental in helping solve the large majority of forgery cases that had come their way.

Peter glanced over at the curator who sat, looking very disappointed indeed, at the news Neal had just delivered.

‘I was afraid of that’ she said. ‘... and I suspect it wasn’t the first or worse yet, it won’t be the last.’

‘Tell us about this collection’ Peter said, his curiosity piqued.

‘The exhibit is still being prepped and doesn’t open until next month’ Ms Lebeau said.

‘How many pieces are we talking about?’ Neal asked.

‘Almost a hundred... some paintings, murals, wood carvings even stone sculptures’ she responded, looking more and more distraught.

‘And how many people are in direct contact with the collection while it’s being prepped?’ Peter asked.

She thought for a moment, computing the answer to Peter’s question. This was the largest exhibit they’d had in the last couple of years and she’d had to put a number of her staff on it – including a couple of new hires.

‘I don’t know... maybe a half dozen or so’ she finally ventured.

Neal and Peter exchanged looks; this had all the makings of a great case and they could see the excitement mirrored in each other’s eyes.

‘Can we get a full list of the pieces from the collection?’ Peter asked. ‘And a list of all the staff who are working on the project?’

‘Of course’ she replied. ‘What do I do in the meantime?’

‘Hang tight’ Peter said. ‘Who else knows about your suspicions?’

‘Just the Director; he’s the one who pointed me in this direction’ she admitted.

‘Well, let’s keep it that way for now’ Peter advised. ‘Let us do some digging and we’ll get back to you as soon as we have anything.’

Peter stood to walk her out of the conference room and closed the door behind her, turning to look at Neal whose face was lit up like a Christmas tree at the thought of a nice juicy case.

‘Looks like we’ve got ourselves a new case’ he said triumphantly.

WCWCWC

It was chilly on this late October afternoon, the sun still out but beginning to lose much of its vigour as fall took a definite hold of New York City. It was a few days before Halloween and dots of black and orange decorations were everywhere, in homes, decorating storefronts and offices.

Sara sat shivering on a bench in Central Park, ‘their’ bench, the one where she and Mozzie usually did their business. It was in a quiet area of the park, away from curious onlookers and questioning stares and Sara looked around, feeling her leg bouncing up and down impatiently as she waited for her contact to appear. Mozzie’s flair for the dramatic never ceased to astound her and he always chose the most absurd and convoluted methods of communication – never the direct route.

Her phone rang and she let out a long slow breath before picking up, it was Mozzie’s MO to call first and case the place before daring to make an appearance out in the open where he might be spotted.

‘Hello Mozzie’ she said, her voice irritated.

‘Is there something I should know about?’ came Neal’s familiar voice.

‘Hi!’ she said, surprised yet pleased to hear her boyfriend’s voice.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

‘You don’t want to know.’ 

Although Neal had discovered Sara and Mozzie’s unholy alliance a few months back, he was desperately trying to stay out of it - despite his natural curiosity.

‘Okay’ he reluctantly answered. ‘I was just calling to see if quiche was okay for dinner’

She could hear dishes clattering in the background and she imagined him, all warm and toasty in his (their?) apartment getting things ready for dinner. What she wouldn’t give to be sitting there on the couch watching him work – preferably with a glass of Italian red in her hand.

‘Sounds great!’ she answered. ‘But no asparagus, it’s been giving me heartburn lately’ she added, remembering the last time the meal had repeated all night as she’d tried to sleep.

‘Deal’ Neal answered. ‘You sure you’re okay? It sounds like you’re outside somewhere.’

‘I am but...’ she began.

She suddenly spotted Mozzie giving her some secret hand signal behind a nearby bush and she waved to him in response.

‘Look, Neal. I’ve got to go but I’ll be home in an hour or so’ she said dismissively.

‘Okay. Be safe’ he warned before adding. ‘I love you.'

‘Bye’ she replied, distracted by the short bald guy who was madly gesticulating in her field of vision.

She stood to make her way to the bushes, feeling like some sort of pervert and Mozzie retreated deeper into the lush trees forcing her to follow.

‘Here’ he said as he handed her a piece of paper. ‘It’s one of the missing Tarsilas from your list but I’m not sure which one. Sam the Sham gloated to everybody who would listen that he already had a buyer lined up.’

Sara looked down at the piece of paper with a time and place, obviously typed using some old untraceable Underwood typewriter that only someone like Mozzie would have in his possession. She took an envelope out of her purse and watched as Mozzie furtively looked around, making certain they were really alone.

‘You’ll get the rest after the recovery’ she said as she handed him the envelope.

‘You know I don’t do this for the money, Sara’ Mozzie explained as he took the money and stashed it surreptitiously in his jacket pocket.

‘Frankly Mozzie, I don’t care why you do this’ she said, cutting him off.

She pulled her coat tightly around her shoulders to protect herself from the cool wind. Although she was pleased with the exchange of information, at the moment, all she cared about was the warm apartment at June’s and the great meal – and foot rub – which was waiting for her when she got home.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

‘Ugh!’ Sara exclaimed as she checked herself out in the mirror by the bed. Her choice of dress for the day, one of her go-to favourites, looked like it had been obscenely stretched over a bowling ball, her misshapen silhouette staring back at her in the mirror.

As if on cue, Neal emerged from the back room, looking dapper in a dark blue suit and striped shirt and carrying a garment bag over his arm. He knew she’d been hesitant about making the switch to maternity wear and he’d noticed her madly tugging at her clothes the last few days as she continued to try to shove a square peg into a round hole. Sara Ellis loved her high end wardrobe and she was reluctant to leave it behind for what she thought would be inelegant, boxy clothes but Neal had done his research and he’d found some beautiful, high end maternity clothes he knew she would love. And so he’d waited for her to get sufficiently frustrated before he made his move – one did not push Sara Ellis into anything and Neal knew that better than anyone.

‘I was going to wait…’ he said as he stopped to stand behind her. ‘but I really think the time has come.’

Sara turned to face him and watched as Neal unzipped the garment bag, revealing a gorgeous emerald green dress which she could only assume from the smug look on his face was a maternity dress.

‘Is that what I think it is?’ she asked, unimpressed, as she eyed the dress up and down.

She was working herself up to hate the damn thing but she gave it the old once over – it _was_ her favourite colour after all.

‘Awww, Neal. I don’t _want_ to wear maternity clothes’ she whined, her face contorted.

‘Sara, you’re always uncomfortable. The baby needs room to grow in there’ he said as he brought his hand to her belly and gave it a loving caress.

‘Come on, just give it a try, okay? You’ll see, this one is just until your sixth month, it’s _not_ that big’ he explained as he turned her around to start unzipping the dress she had somehow managed to squeeze herself into.

She let out an exasperated sigh, letting Neal do his thing and watched as her gorgeous coral dress fell to the ground, suddenly afraid she’d never get to wear it again. As if he could read her thoughts, Neal picked it up off the floor and carefully laid it on the nearby bed.

‘We’ll just put this one away for a couple of months, you’ll be wearing it again before you know it’ he said as he placed the new garment over her head and coaxed her to slip her arms in the armholes, as if he were dressing a two-year-old.

Sara balked but let Neal finish the task and watched as his face became illuminated at the sight of her – not one of those phoney Caffrey smiles but a real honest to goodness fond grin.

‘You look beautiful’ he said as he kissed her softly. He prepared to turn her around so she could see herself in the mirror and Sara cringed, momentarily closing her eyes, too afraid to look. This was another major step in leaving her carefree life behind and it terrified her.

‘Come on, look’ Neal cajoled as she finally peeked.

It looked like any other dress she might have chosen for herself with just a little bit of wiggle room around the belly. It was a beautiful shade of green, fell just above the knee the way she liked it and if was fitted everywhere but around her baby bump, giving her room to move gracefully without constantly having to tug at an ill-fitting dress.

She smiled despite herself as she examined her reflection.

‘How did you know?’ she asked Neal, finally relaxing.

‘You’re pregnant, I knew you were going to need to switch to maternity clothes sooner or later’ he said with a modest shrug. ‘I was just waiting for _you_ to be ready.’

Despite her misgivings, he’d hit one out of the park with his choice and Sara turned to look at her boyfriend, her eyes becoming moist at the sweet gesture on his part.

‘Thank you’ she said, her voice cracking – damn hormones.

‘You’re welcome’ he responded, bringing his hand up to caress her cheek and wiping a wayward tear.

‘And tonight, I’ll show you the other stuff I got you’ he said triumphantly.

Sara shook her head in disbelief.

‘Caffrey!’ was all she could think to say.

‘Oh, and I’ve gotten tomorrow afternoon off so clear your docket. I’ve got another surprise for you’ he added, a glimmer of mischief in his eye.

Sara smiled back, intrigued. ‘I could get used to this’ she said as she laced her arms around his neck.

WCWCWC

The mood in the White Collar offices was upbeat when Neal strolled in on this Wednesday morning, right on time. The atmosphere was always different when they were onto to a big, juicy case and Neal immediately spotted some activity up in Peter’s office as Diana stepped out and prepared to make her way back to her desk. He deposited his trilby on Socrates’ bust and without so much as slowing his pace, he strode over to meet her.

‘Lots of activity around here this morning’ he crooned.

‘Yeah, Caffrey - thanks to your diagnosis yesterday’ she said as she reached her desk and settled in with a list in her hand.

‘I’m going to get to work and start checking the background on some of these employees the museum has working on the prep’ she said. ‘Oh, and Peter wants to see you.’

Neal raised his eyebrows in response although it was no surprise that Peter would want him front and centre on this case. 

‘Caffrey’ he heard as he walked by Jones’ desk. ‘Thanks for that suggestion yesterday. My mom loved that pizza place.’

Neal gave him a thumbs up and continued on his way up towards Peter’s office.

‘Morning’ he murmured as he stood in front of his handler.

‘Ah, good - you’re on time!’ Peter answered as he looked up from his computer screen.

Neal cringed at the comment. ‘Really, Peter?It was _one_ morning and I told you, Sara...’

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, save it’ Peter said in mock annoyance.

‘I need you on the ground on this case. Can you start feeling out your contacts to see if any of this stuff has surfaced anywhere?’ he asked handing him a long list of art.

‘Sure...’ Neal said. ‘Do you think they’d be bold enough to fence it right here in New York?’

‘If this guy is lifting stuff from his workplace, he has to stay nearby’ Peter reasoned as he reached back and grabbed the forgery from their meeting the day before. ‘Oh, and can you give this the once over again and see if you can figure out who might be behind this?’

Neal took it from Peter’s hand, looking it over once again. 

‘It’s good but... it’s not _great_ ’ he ventured as he ran his hand over it.

‘You mean it’s not ‘Caffrey’ great’ Peter added.

Neal shrugged nonchalantly; that was exactly what he meant.

‘But all they need is something good enough to make the switch. Once inside the museum, no one would suspect it could be a forgery and they wouldn’t be paying that much attention’ Neal said.

Peter nodded in agreement. ‘Oh, and we need to go down to MoMA and see if we can spot any other fakes’ Peter added as he returned his attention to his computer screen.

‘Yeah, about that...’ Neal said in that tone that drove Peter crazy.

He was obviously on the verge of some outlandish but no doubt brilliant idea on how to approach the case and Peter braced himself for what was coming, already imagining himself in front of Hughes trying to sell him on another crazy Caffrey scheme.

‘I’m thinking going undercover would be our best bet on this one.It would be a lot more useful if I could get in there and get free rein of the place.’ Neal reasoned, his voice calm and hypnotic. ‘ You know, get to know the players, the mood over there. We _know_ the leak is on the inside. Why give them a heads up by showing up over there and start throwing our weight around?’

Peter gave him _that_ look as his eyes narrowed. It always preceded a few seconds of silence while he processed Neal’s latest proposal but after three years of working with this brilliant man (not that he would ever tell him to his face), Peter knew that Neal’s outlandish ideas were often the ones that ended up cracking the case wide open.

‘You might be on to something. Let me run it by Hughes’ Peter said before cracking the whip once more. ‘Now, get to work!’

Neal turned to leave, a satisfied smirk on his face.

WCWCWC

Sara was having a great day and she could feel the excitement building as the day wore on. She always got that way before a recovery and to top it off, she’d been feeling great, invigorated by the fact that three of her colleagues had commented on the great dress she was wearing – and one of them was Francine Pollard, that bitch from Mr. Bosch’s office who never found anything positive to say about anyone or anything.

The phone rang on her desk and she glanced down at the display - Burke’s Premiere Events.

‘Hey El’ she sang into the phone.

‘Hi yourself, you sound pretty chipper’ Elizabeth replied.

‘Yeah, well, let’s just say I’m having a good day’ Sara said. ‘How are you?’

‘Good. Badly in need of some girlfriend time, though. Can you do lunch tomorrow?’

Sara glanced at the ever-present agenda on her computer screen, noticing her Thursday afternoon blocked before suddenly remembering her mid-week date with Neal.

‘No, sorry, not tomorrow. Neal’s got the afternoon off and he’s got some surprise for me...’ she said, unable to suppress a smile.

‘Well, look at you two lovebirds!’ teased Elizabeth, as if the two women were a couple of teenagers. ‘Well, what about Friday then? Oh, and how about we go shopping this weekend. We need to get outfits for the commendation dinner. It’s in two weeks.’

‘What commendation dinner?’ Sara asked, totally out of the loop.

‘Didn’t Neal tell you? It’s a once a year thing the FBI holds and it’s here in New York this year. Peter and the team are getting an award’ Elizabeth said, pride evident in her voice.

‘Really? Neal never said. Okay, lunch Friday and shopping on Saturday then’ Sara concluded before hanging up.

WCWCWC

‘And you think this is our best angle?’ Reese Hughes said as his underling stood before him making his case.

‘Well, if we go in all guns blazing, we’ll alert the perp and we’ll never get to the bottom of this. Maybe we can even recoup some of the stuff that’s already out there... if there _is_ stuff floating out there’ Peter explained, repeating the argument he’d just heard from Neal.

Hughes sat at his desk, leaning back in his chair, his fingers tented as he considered Peter’s proposal.

‘And you’ll keep Caffrey on a short leash?’ Hughes asked, his usual question.

‘Reese, I think you know by now, that Caffrey can deliver the goods’ Peter replied.

‘That’s not what I’m talking about’ Reese Hughes said. ‘And you know it.’

‘Look, Neal’s settled down an awful lot these past few months. Impending fatherhood has really helped him focus’ Peter explained.

‘Well, you can’t change a leopard’s spots’ Reese admonished, with his usual ‘glass half-empty’ take on things.

Peter prepared to leave, suddenly turning to face his boss. He had one more item of business to discuss although he feared the response he might get to his question.

‘Reese, about the commendation dinner’ he began as Hughes looked up at him exasperated.

The older man had a good idea where Peter was going with this and before Peter could say another word, he sat forward in his chair to speak.

‘Don’t even ask, Peter. Caffrey is not welcome at the dinner’ he said, his voice firm.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

‘But Reese, this award is a really big deal and you know as well as I do, that the team wouldn’t even be getting this recognition if it wasn’t for Neal’ Peter argued.

‘This is not in my hands, Peter. You seem to forget that Caffrey is a criminal informant. The commendation dinner is an opportunity to recognize the contributions of the Bureau’s excellent staff.The higher ups in DC have made it perfectly clear that he has no place at this affair’ the older man retorted.

‘It’s been three years, Reese. In that time, we’ve gone from a 53% closure rate up to a whopping 92%!You can’t tell me Neal wasn’t the defining factor in making that happen’ Peter said, his voice growing louder.

‘Look, I can’t deny that Caffrey’s played an important role on the team but Peter, he’s a CI, he’s still serving out his sentence for God’s sake – he does _not_ belong at an event like this’ Hughes said, not quite believing in his own words.

‘Is that what you _really_ think of him?’ Peter asked, staring down his boss.

Reese Hughes let out a long slow breath and stood to face his underling as Peter stood his ground.

‘No, it isn’t, not really. But there’s protocol involved here Peter and you and I are bound to follow it’ he said, knowing darn well his argument was weak.

‘There might be protocol involved, but there’s also the issue of doing what’s right. Neal deserves this recognition just as much as Diana and Jones – and as much as I do. He’s put his life on the line time and time again for this team’ Peter said, his voice insistent. ’And you _know_ that to be the case.’

Reese just stared back, obviously feeling uneasy.

‘Will you at least try?’ Peter pleaded as he placed his fists on the edge of his boss’s desk.

‘You know it’s the right thing to do, Reese’ Peter added, his eyes glued to his boss’s.

‘Fine, I’ll give it my best shot. But I’m not making any promises’ the older man finally relented as Peter gave him a big grin.

‘Thanks Reese’ he said simply and with that Peter Burke made his way out of the office before his boss could change his mind.

WCWCWC

Sara sat in the seedy bar, looking somewhat out of place in her stiletto heels and her new stylish maternity dress. She sipped on a glass of juice and waited patiently as the regular clientele ambled in, settling in around jugs of beer or, for the more hard-core clientele, straight bourbon. Mozzie had given her a photograph of Sam the Sham, another one of the associates he’d become disenchanted with over the years and Sara kept an eye out as new arrivals stepped into the bar.

For Mozzie, this was all about defending his honour – or any ‘perceived’ slight to his integrity.After almost thirty years in the ‘game’, he’d learned who could be trusted and who needed to be shunned. He diligently kept a grudge list of those who’d ‘done him wrong’ over the years and he’d appointed himself judge and jury - eager to retaliate when the time was right. This was the best of both worlds, he could make a few extra bucks and get his revenge all in one fell swoop and for the past year, he’d been keeping his eyes open for any art that resurfaced that had been insured by Sterling Bosch. Sara had provided him with a list of items she was looking to recover and he’d keep an eagle eye (and ear) out for any swaps he might hear about. When Mozzie had heard Sam boasting about how he’d recently come across the coveted Tarsila, he’d known the time was right to exact his revenge.

There was a commotion at the door as a number of new arrivals stepped in and amongst them, Sara recognized her target, the man himself, carrying a large parcel with him. He nodded to a few of his fellow cronies as he walked by, moving steadfastly towards the back where a man sat alone at a table, sipping an amber coloured liquid. 

She rose from her stool at the bar and followed him. It was show time!

WCWCWC

‘So, you like the new dress?’ Neal said as Sara curled up in his arms.

Lately, they’d been hitting the sack as early as 9:30 or 10:00 to accommodate Sara’s low level of energy. Unbeknownst to her, most nights, Neal would wait for her to fall asleep and get up to work on his latest painting or spend an hour or so reading before he finally returned to bed. She needed the extra rest and he was happy to see her settled into a routine.

‘Yes, I do’ she said as she let he hand linger on his bare chest. ‘You did good, Caffrey.’

‘Well, I’ve been around you long enough to know what you like’ he said, pleased with himself.

‘Thank you’ she said as she turned to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

‘Well, there’s a lot more to come. Tomorrow, I’ll unveil another garment from the ‘ _Sara Ellis Mommy Collection_ ’’ he said with a flourish.

She laughed heartily, a welcome sound to Neal’s ears, especially after watching her suffer over the past few weeks.

‘So, what’s this surprise you’ve got for me tomorrow?’ she asked as her hand lingered on his chest, hoping to sweet-talk him into revealing the secret.

‘Ah, well, if I tell you _that_ , it’ll defeat the whole purpose, don’t you think?’ Neal teased, kissing her and sensing that she might be up for a little one on one.

‘Oh, I forgot to tell you’ she said, becoming animated and instantly breaking the mood.

‘What?’ he asked, amused at how her disposition could change so quickly these days.

‘I got that Tarsila back today and guess what?’ she asked, her voice childlike.

‘What?’ he repeated with a small laugh, his voice patient as if he were chatting with a kid who didn’t have the ability to stay on track.

‘It was a two for one’ she exclaimed, propping herself up on her elbow.

‘What do you mean, a two for one?’ he asked, his eyes narrowing.

‘Well, the fence had two paintings on him and he was trying to negotiate a sale for the second one’ she explained.

‘Really? What was it? The second piece...’ Neal asked, suddenly curious. He loved discussing stolen art and he felt his heart start to pump just a little faster. He kept up on what was going on in the criminal world and he couldn’t help but feel the excitement when he heard about a daring theft somewhere in the world - although he was keeping himself out of trouble, he was thoroughly enjoyingliving vicariously through others.

‘It was some painting from a Mexican artist I’ve never heard of; you know, Mayan style. It wasn’t on our watch list but I brought it in until we figure out who it belongs to’ she said, doing her best to explain.

At this, Neal sat up abruptly in bed, wondering if this could _possibly_ be what he thought it was.

‘Describe it’ Neal said, as he got out of bed to grab the laptop on the kitchen table.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, puzzled.

‘What did the painting look like?’ he asked as he began typing something into the search engine

‘Well, it was a child with a...’ she began.

‘... a necklace?’ Neal asked as he brought up an image on the screen.

‘Yeah, how did you know?’ Sara asked, puzzled.

‘Is this it?’ he asked as he made his way back to the bed, sitting down next to her lying form.

‘Yeah! That’s it. How did you know? What’s going on, Neal?’ she asked staring at the computer screen.

Neal was beaming from ear to ear. He hadn’t had to do a thing and they’d already recovered the original to the forgery he’d examined the day before. 

‘Sara, this is the original that was stolen from the MoMA. From that case I was telling you about’ he said, still grinning widely.

‘You’re kidding!’ she said, unbelieving.

‘It’s part of that exhibit on Mayan art’ he said as he closed the computer and grabbed a surprised Sara.

‘You are the _best_ girlfriend ever!’ he exclaimed as he hugged her.

‘Okay, this is really weird’ she admitted as she pulled away. ‘You’re telling me that I’ve accidentally recovered a painting that was stolen from MoMA?’ she said, needing more details

‘That’s exactly what I’m telling you. It’s part of a collection that they’re prepping to display. Of course, we’d have to have it authenticated to be sure’ he added.

‘I’ve already put that in motion back at the office. I wasn’t sure what I’d recovered and I asked for it to be evaluated’ Sara explaine

‘Well, we’ve got to keep this under wraps for now. Whoever stole this and tried to have it fenced can’t know that the FBI is on to him. I’m going undercover to work in the prep room at the museum to find out who the inside man is’ Neal admitted.

He hadn’t even had the chance to tell her about his undercover assignment; Peter had just cleared it with Hughes moments before they’d left the office.

‘You’re going undercover?’ she asked, suddenly worried. ‘Is it dangerous?’

Even though both of them were strong, independent individuals who were accustomed to being placed in precarious situations and more than capable of standing on their own two feet, he couldn’t help but understand her reaction. He’d turned into a bit of a ‘father hen’ himself lately whenever Sara told him about a recovery she was involved in – especially after that most unfortunate incident where he’d found her unconscious on the floor of a deserted warehouse. He never wanted her (or himself) to go through that again.

He settled back into bed and resumed his earlier position, his arms open and Sara pressed up against him. He realized that, now that the baby was a factor, he should probably consider her feelings a little more before springing things on her. Although, the choice of assignments wasn’t up to him, Peter had been particularly careful lately not to place Neal in dangerous situations; after all, Neal was the father to his unborn godchild and he needed to keep him from harm despite the CI’s inevitable attraction to perilous cases.

‘Sorry, I should have told you at dinner’ Neal relented; he’d have to be more considerate in the future.

‘I really don’t think it’s dangerous’ he added. ‘I’m going in as Nick Halden… we think it’s an inside job. The curator thinks there might be more pieces involved.’

‘Okay’ she said, tugging him at the waist to bring him closer. 'But you _will_ be careful, though.’

‘Promise’ he said, meaning it.

‘Because there’s that big dinner coming up and you don’t want to show up with a bruised face or something’ she added, kissing his cheek and making her way to his neck.

Neal pulled away for a moment to look into her eyes, not that he wasn’t enjoying the feel of her warm, soft lips on his neck.

‘What dinner?’ he asked.

‘That big commendation dinner.Elizabeth says you guys are getting an award this year’ she said returning to nibbling his neck.

Neal lay there, baffled. No one had said anything to him about a dinner – or an award. He knew from talking to Peter that the commendation dinner was an annual event. Peter and Elizabeth had flown out to LA for it the year before but this was the first he’d heard about any award.

Sara’s insistent lips were now making their way down his chest and he chuckled softly as her mouth tickled him on the way past his belly button, continuing on to other unmentionable parts of his suddenly aroused anatomy. He let out a moan as her mouth reached its destination and he heard Sara giggle in response.

Suddenly, the commendation dinner was the furthest thing from his mind.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

The Harvard crew began to assemble in the conference room bright and early on Thursday morning to discuss strategy on the MoMA case, Jones, Diana and the rest of the team waiting patiently for their boss and his CI to make an appearance. The two men could be seen chatting away in Peter’s office next door; whatever it was they were discussing, it looked important – important enough for Peter Burke to keep his entire team waiting.

‘So, can we get in to have a look at it?’ Peter asked as Neal finished telling him about what had happened the night before – well, the G-rated portion of what had transpired the night before.

‘Sara’s setting it up for us right now. She said we could come by this morning and have a look’ Neal said, his voice quiet, obviously pleased with himself.

‘If this _is_ the real thing, we’ve got to make sure it doesn’t get out. Otherwise, it’ll alert our suspect that we’re on to him’ Peter responded as he opened the door to the conference room and led the way inside.

Everyone sat at attention, eager to hear the latest news on the case and Peter took his place at the head of the table, a glib smile on his face.

‘Well, people, by some strange, miraculous coincidence that only seems to happen to Caffrey’ he began. ‘…the Rivera original seems to have surfaced; it was recovered yesterday.’

Jones glared over at Neal who was gloating openly. The guy seemed to always be walking around with a four leaf clover around his neck and a horseshoe up his ass, he mused, envious.

‘It is presently sitting in the recovery vault over at Sterling Bosch and Neal and I are going to take a look and try to confirm its authenticity. Jones, how are we doing with Neal’s cover’ Peter asked.

‘Well, we’ve tightened up his Nick Halden alias, and he’s ready to roll’ Jones reported. 

‘And what do we know about the staff working on the preparation of the exhibit?’ Peter asked, turning to Diana.

‘Four of the staff working on the exhibit are long time staffers of the museum. One of them has a record for a couple of DUIs, nothing on the others. The other two are people which have been brought in by the museum for the duration of the prep – Marnie James, a thirty two year old woman who dabbles in art and has worked off and on at a few Manhattan galleries’ she said as she passed around photographs of the woman. ‘And this guy.’

‘This is Paul Stewart, although that appears to be an alias.Nothing much on him before two years ago. Facial recognition has identified him as Pernell Richardson.He’s done some time for bond forgery and petty crimes; he’s been in and out of the prison system for the past twenty odd years’ she explained.

‘He’s our most likely target but at this point, I don’t think we can make any assumptions’ Peter said as he glanced down at the photograph of the surly looking older man.

‘So, Neal, Ms. Lebeau has gotten you in to work with the team and you start your new job tomorrow’ Peter concluded as he ended the meeting. ‘The rest of you, stand by to back Caffrey up.'

He was anxious to get over to Sterling Bosch and have a look at that painting. Sara would be able to tell them more about the fence she’d interrupted making the sale. Maybe if they leaned on him, he would give up the name of the person who’d provided him with the stolen painting. With high hopes, the two men left the Federal Building on the way to find some answers to their questions.

WCWCWC

‘What have you got in that backpack, anyway?’ Peter asked as they pulled into the multi-level parking garage a block away from Sterling Bosch.

‘Just some stuff’ Neal said, purposefully evasive.

Peter, for all his attempts at being ‘all business’ was a very curious guy and he always kept an eye on Neal’s every movement.

‘You _do_ remember you gave me the afternoon off, right?’ he asked as Peter continued to scrutinize him.

‘Oh, yeah! What are you doing, anyway?’ Peter asked.

‘Well, not that it’s any of your business but I’m surprising Sara with a picnic lunch’ Neal answered as they began the short walk to the high rise building.

‘So, what? You’ve got food in there?’ Peter pressed on.

‘No!’ Neal responded, annoyed at Peter’s pushiness. ‘If you must know, I’ve brought her some comfortable clothes to wear. Peter, don’t you have a life of your own to worry about?’

Peter gave him an audible ‘tsk’ as they kept walking. Neal was still his responsibility – at least until he was eventually taken off-anklet which was still a little over a year away (unless Neal did something to mess it up in the meantime). By then, his partner would be a dad and Peter looked forward to seeing Neal in that role although he already knew he’d be a wonderful father. 

He thought back to his conversation with Reese the day before. He hoped his boss would manage to convince the higher ups to let Neal attend the awards dinner. It was a huge honour to be recognized country-wide as the team with the highest closure rate. Peter’s team had been far from that feat just a few short years ago but Neal’s arrival had really shaken things up and everybody on the team seemed to be better for it. Peter was always the first to be on Neal’s case when he didn’t play by the rules but over the past three years, Peter had to admit that his partner’s unique way of looking at life (and crime) had yielded some wonderful results. On the flip side, Neal often took unnecessary chances, operating under the mistaken impression that he was invincible and it was Peter’s job to keep him safe – at least while he was on his watch. In that sense, Sara’s pregnancy could not have come at a better time and although it had shaken the young couple to the core, it had forced Neal to come to terms with the consequences of his uncontrolled impulses.

Sara was standing in the lobby waiting for them when they arrived, looking stunning in a black maternity dress with an off-white matching jacket – an outfit Neal had unveiled for her that morning.

‘Sara!’ Peter said as he spotted her. ‘You look beautiful.’

It wasn’t his usual greeting but rather a testament to how great the glowing mother-to-be looked in her new mommy clothes – and who was she to complain?

‘Why Peter!’ Sara responded in mock coyness. ‘It’s nice to see you too.’

Neal just grinned in response; she _did_ look amazing – thanks in large part to his incredible fashion sense. 

The trio walked to the elevator, making their way up to the 38th floor where Sterling Bosch kept its recoveries while they awaited an eventual reunion with their rightful owners. Neal had never actually set foot in the vault and the little devil on his shoulder was curious to see what treasures were hidden there. Sara led the way, signing them in and stepping into the inner sanctum where several small rooms lined the hallway leading to a larger, main room with shelves and an open area where paintings were held. She expertly navigated the space, walking over to the spot where the Rivera painting awaited them, set up on an easel for easy viewing.

Neal’s eyes wandered around the room, his illicit instincts kicking in as he took in the multitude of beautiful art pieces around them. He forced himself to concentrate on the reason for their visit and walked up to the painting, pulling out the monocle he kept on him at all times so he could examine the item close up.

It was exactly the same size as the one he’d seen earlier in the week and upon initial examination, looked identical. Neal took the pair of gloves Sara handed him so he could manipulate the painting and proceeded to take it off the easel to examine the back. His eyes were drawn to the type of canvas which had been used – the feature which had given away the forgery so easily. This canvas matched the period in question and Neal began to examine the painting itself, the strokes, the colours, the technique, the type of oil which had been used.

‘This is definitely from that era’ he said as he kept examining the item.

‘The strokes match the artist’s other paintings, the oil matches the period...’ he continued as he took his time evaluating the item.

Peter watched in admiration; no one but Neal could render a verdict with such confidence – confidence based on discerning and in depth knowledge of the subject at hand. Considering he was self-taught, the feat was even more incredible although Neal behaved as if it all came so naturally to him. He’d worked hard, in his own warped way, to get to this point – to be able to recognize a forgery almost immediately. It had always propelled him to aim for perfection with his own forgeries over the years although now, he had to satisfy himself with examining those created by other ‘artists’ – none as good as his had been.

‘This is definitely the real thing’ he finally concluded after a few minutes of scrutiny. ‘But we’ll let your authenticator render the final verdict’ he added, turning to Sara and returning the gloves.

‘Sara, what do you know about the fence?’ Peter asked.

‘His first name is Sam. He hangs out at the ‘Rusty Nail’ in the Bronx. Actually, I’ve got a picture of him’ she said as she reached into her jacket pocket and handed over the photograph.

‘And how did you get the lead?’ Peter asked, pushing for more.

Sara exchanged a furtive look with Neal; she wasn’t about to burn her lucrative contact with Mozzie, not yet anyway.

‘I’m sorry, Peter, I’m not at liberty to say’ she responded.

Peter knew there was more to the story but decided to let it go for now.

‘Well, thanks for letting us in to have a look’ he said as they prepared to make their way out.

The threesome walked together towards the elevator and Neal held back as Peter entered, on his way down and back to the office.

‘Peter, you don’t mind if I... stay behind, do you?’ Neal asked, a smarmy smile on his face.

‘But it’s only 10:30’ Peter declared. ‘I gave you the afternoon off, not the whole day.’

Neal stared back, a pleading look on his face as he gave Peter a discreet head nod towards Sara, who was keeping well out of the discussion.

‘Fine’ Peter exclaimed, exasperated as he stepped into the elevator.Leave it to Caffrey to always push the envelope.

The door closed and Neal turned to Sara, his smile more sincere this time as he pulled her over to a quiet corner of the open space.

‘Hey’ he said, his voice hoarse, lacing his arms around her waist and placing a soft, lingering kiss on her lips.

Sara looked around to make sure they were alone; after all this _was_ a place of business.

‘This’ he said as he glanced over at the bag by his feet ‘... is something for you to change into.’

She looked down at the bag, her eyes searching his for some sort of explanation.

‘Don’t ask any questions, just change into this...’ he crooned, his voice low and sexy as he continued to hold her close. ‘... and I’ll be back in an hour to whisk you away for the afternoon.

What could she say? She shook her head in exasperation and pulled away, letting Neal go to... whatever he was off to do. He turned and gave her a wink before stepping into the waiting elevator.

‘Oh, and by the way’ he said with a sparkle in his eyes. ‘Peter’s right. You _do_ look beautiful.’

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Sara Ellis stood in the executive washroom of Sterling Bosch, examining her reflection in the large mirror. Her boyfriend had done it again; he’d managed to choose an outfit that not only appealed to her sense of style but also fit her like a glove. The stylish slacks were fitted except for some comfortable stretch in the tummy area and Neal had bought her a fashionable blouse and beautiful woolen sweater in a gorgeous shade of grey to match. The bottom of the bag he’d left for her revealed a pair of comfortable shoes – so whatever he had in mind was probably going to be happening outdoors, she reasoned. She slipped on the comfy shoes and packed up the clothes she had just removed, taking care to place the beautiful (and expensive) dress in the garment bag he’d thoughtfully left for her. 

She giggled in anticipation, thankful that none of her colleagues were nearby to witness the giddiness – after all, she had a reputation as a badass insurance investigator to maintain.

She absent-mindedly placed her hand on her stomach, feeling it again, that strange sensation – gas? she wondered. This was the second day she hadn’t had to make an early morning emergency trip to the bathroom and she was grateful, hoping that she had finally turned the corner and moved on to another stage of her pregnancy, one that didn’t involve emptying out the contents of her stomach every morning before she came to work. 

She gave herself a satisfied grin in the mirror and stepped out, heading to her office to await Neal’s return.

WCWCWC

Peter Burke kept an eye on the desk located right outside his boss’ office. He hadn’t seen Reese since the morning before and he was eager to check in with his secretary to find out when he’d be making an appearance. He replayed their conversation from earlier in the week and shook his head. It was just a question of time before Neal heard through the grapevine that the New York office was being honoured at the commendation dinner and Peter hoped he’d have the whole situation sorted out by the time he found out about the award. He couldn’t fathom the whole team, minus Neal, being in the limelight at the dinner when he knew how substantial his CI’s involvement had been in their success.

Jones suddenly materialized before him and Peter snapped back to reality.

‘Peter, we’re all set with Caffrey’s alias at the museum. We put out the word that Nick Halden has a checkered past and has some experience with forgeries. Hopefully, the information will make it to the right ears and our perp will make a move’ he said as he stood there.

‘Thanks Jones’ Peter replied. ‘Listen, have you seen Hughes around today?’

‘No, I think he’s out of town – someone said he was in Chicago meeting with their field office’ Clinton said.

‘Great!’ Peter muttered sarcastically under his breath as Jones turned to leave.

‘Jones’ Peter said as his underling turned back to face him.

‘This commendation dinner...’ he began, not quite certain how to go on. ‘... do you think Neal should be allowed to be there with us?’

The question obviously took Jones by surprise and he seemed to ponder his answer carefully before expressing an opinion on the topic.

‘Well, Caffrey _is_ a part of the team, that’s for sure’ he began. ‘But at the end of the day, he’s still a criminal informant and I really don’t think it’s his place to be at an FBI dinner.’

Peter smiled faintly as he watched Jones walk away. Unfortunately, Peter feared, that opinion might be shared by a good number of staff in the white collar division and part of him understood why that might be so. But Peter knew better than anyone that Neal Caffrey had given all of himself to the Bureau – well, all except the part he would always keep hidden away, that part charming scoundrel who always found a way to come out smelling like a rose even when he’d just stepped into a pile of shit. 

He smiled, more sincerely this time, as he thought of all the times Neal put himself on the line for the team, taking chances – unnecessary at times – to make certain everyone was safe and the bad guys were locked up. Neal’s moral compass, slightly wonky at times, usually led him to doing the wrong things for the right reasons and although his methods were not always on the up and up, he always meant well. Peter had worked hard to bring Neal over to the lawful side of the divide but he realized, more than anyone, that Neal would always have an edge, that bad boy gene, that added to his charm and appeal.

Above all, though, no one could deny that Neal Caffrey had a kind and gentle heart and if Reese Hughes wasn’t able to pull a rabbit out of a hat, that gentle heart was about to be ripped out and stomped on.

WCWCWC

It was late October but still a beautiful, sunny day in New York City. Neal had managed to find a gorgeous out of the way spot in a hidden gem of a park in downtown Manhattan and he sat up against a tree trunk, Sara’s back against his chest as they relaxed after a gourmet lunch, compliments of Second Street Deli.

By the time he’d reappeared at her office, Neal had changed into some casual clothes which mirrored Sara’s: a pair of casual chinos, a shirt and a warm, gorgeous sweater in a dark shade of blue.Regardless of how elegant he looked in a suit, she had to admit her boyfriend looked just as fetching in casual wear and Sara had smiled in appreciation as he’d made his appearance, carrying a blanket and a large wicker basket.

Now that the bulk of the delicacies he’d purchased had been consumed along with a premium bottle of sparkling apple cider, they both sat back, relaxing and breathing in the crisp autumn air, finally letting go of the tension of the past few weeks.

‘Neal, you never cease to amaze me!’ Sara said as she pulled his arms tighter around her waist.

‘That’s my job...’ Neal said with a devilish grin. ‘... to amaze you because _you_ do that for me every day.’

‘Caffrey!’ she countered with a throaty laugh as she responded to his over-sentimental drivel. ’You are _so_ full of crap.’

He jostled her, slightly hurt by her response.

‘I _mean_ it’ he said. ‘You are growing a little person inside you, don’t you realize how amazing that is?’

She let out a small laugh; she still wasn’t used to Neal’s constant concern for the baby and for her wellbeing. She’d been taking care of herself all by her lonesome since she’d left home at a young age and to have someone dote on her was a new and still slightly uncomfortable experience – one she had to admit she was learning to like. She settled back in his arms, enjoying the quiet and the feel of Neal’s arms around her when she suddenly felt a tension in his body as he spoke.

‘You know what you said last night about Peter’s team getting an award this year’ he began as Sara nodded. ‘Are you sure you heard right?’

‘Yeah, El said everyone was going this year and that I needed to get myself a nice dress so I could look good hanging off your arm’ she responded with her usual off-kilter humour ‘Why?’

‘It’s just strange that Peter hasn’t said anything about it’ he mused.

Peter Burke was a proud man and it seemed uncharacteristically modest of him not to be gloating over such a feat. He loved to boast about the unit’s always improving closure rate to anyone who would listen especially when he came across agents from visiting cities. If he hadn’t told Neal about the award, there had to be a reason and Neal’s overactive imagination was already trying to figure out what that reason might be – with worrisome results. 

‘Well, why don’t you just ask him about it?’ Sara suggested .

‘I suppose I - ’ Neal began before Sara interrupted, her voice excited.

‘Oh! There it is again!’ she suddenly said, her hand moving to her stomach.

‘What?’ Neal asked as he sat up straight, suddenly worried.

‘That... that... Here, put your hand here’ she said as she placed Neal’s hand on the spot where she’d just felt the flutter for the third time in the last little while.

Neal face became illuminated as he caught the tail end of the almost indiscernible movement.

‘Is that what I think it is?’ he asked breathlessly.

‘I don’t know...’ said Sara, just as surprised.

‘Whoa’ Neal murmured. ‘That’s incredible!’

Sara turned to face him, noticing the same goofy look on his face that she suspected was on hers.

‘This is really happening, isn’t it?’ she said.

Neal looked on, speechless and nodded in response.

WCWCWC

‘Aren’t you working today?’ Peter asked as he busied himself in the kitchen, preparing coffee to go.

It was Friday morning at 8:00 and Elizabeth was sitting at the small desk in the kitchen, barefoot and still in her robe – looking like she had all the time in the world and perusing something on her laptop.

‘I took the day off. I’m having lunch with Sara’ she answered without bothering to look up.

‘That’s nice...’ Peter said, looking over her shoulder at the fancy outfits displayed on the screen.

‘So what’s all this?’ he asked, as always curious.

‘I’m checking out some maternity dresses Sara might like for the commendation dinner. We’re going shopping tomorrow’ she answered matter of factly.

Peter stopped dead in his tracks as her words sunk in.

‘Honey, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea’ he finally said as she looked up at him questioningly.

‘What do you mean? She told me she’s finally made the move to maternity clothes and I want her to be comfortable’ El explained.

‘No, not that. It’s...’ he hesitated before continuing. ‘So, you’ve already _talked_ to her about the dinner?’

‘Of course, I have. Peter, what’s wrong?’ she asked as she saw the colour draining from his face.

Peter let out a sigh as he realized it might be too late; chances were Sara had already told Neal that the team was receiving an award. For all he knew, Neal had been walking around the office all week waiting for someone to say something about the upcoming event, no doubt speculating as to why Peter hadn’t told him yet. Knowing Neal, chances were he’d already figured out the whole thing. 

‘The higher ups in DC don’t want Neal at the dinner’ he blurted out as El’s face dropped in response. ‘They say it’s not his place....’

‘But, Peter, that’ s ridiculous. Neal is as much a member of that team as Jones and Diana are’ she said, standing to face him.

‘I totally agree, honey. And Reese promised he would work on getting them to let Neal attend but... to be honest, I’m not sure they’ll budge’ Peter grudgingly admitted as much to himself as to Elizabeth.

‘Oh, my God. That’s horrible. Poor Neal! Does he know?’ she asked as she started to clue in to the ramifications of her blunder.

Peter shrugged, desolate. ‘He hasn’t said anything but if he already knows the team is getting an award, chances are he’s waiting for me to bring it up’ he said.

‘I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have said anything to Sara. Now, what am I going to do? Tell her we’re cancelling our shopping spree because she and Neal aren’t welcome at the dinner?’

Peter shrugged again, uncertain how they were going to get themselves out of the delicate situation.

‘Never mind’ El continued. ‘I’ll think of something’

The Burkes exchanged concerned looks. The world wasn’t fair.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Neal Caffrey had been at the Museum of Modern Art on a number of occasions in his lifetime – although as of late the basis for his visits had been more legitimate than those he’d carried out during his illicit youth. He circled around the building, searching for the staff entrance as he’d been instructed to do by Roseanne Lebeau. He found the woman herself waiting for him as he entered and he adjusted his jeans and smoothed out his t-shirt as he headed over to join her.

‘Welcome _Nick_ ’ she said with a knowing smile. ‘Come on, I’ll take you down and introduce you to everyone.’

She took his elbow and led him down a few corridors towards a secluded section of the building, an area the general public would never get to see. Neal was always amazed at the enormity of the space dedicated to all types of activities that supported the running of a large metropolitan museum such as the MoMA: prep rooms, storage areas, offices, meeting rooms. 

After many twists and turns, they finally entered a cavernous room, lined with dozens of crates, work tables, easels and various, sundry cleaning materials. A couple of the staff looked up when they entered the room and Lebeau called out to everyone to gather around so she could introduce her new recruit.

Getting art ready for an exhibition was a mammoth undertaking, especially with an exhibit of this size.There were countless tasks to carry out including unpacking of crates, cleaning of canvasses, the preparation of a complete inventory including size, placement and lighting, there was framing to be changed out on some of the paintings, the whole publicity to be developed for the exhibit and the actual assignment within the museum, including appropriate lighting and placement within the allocated rooms.

Neal took a cursory glance at the motley crew assembled; there were six individuals varying in age from twenty something to sixty something and he smiled brightly as he was introduced to everyone individually. They all had specific areas of expertise except for the two recent hires who had been brought in at a more junior level to help with the cleaning and preparation of the actual art pieces.His job was to help the pair with the more mundane, physical tasks and he settled in to work alongside them. 

He noticed how Paul Stewart – aka Pernell Richardson – worked off on his own, away from the group, most definitely a red flag. The man looked anxious and suspicious and he glanced nervously at Neal after being introduced – no doubt the result of being in and out of penitentiaries all his life. Neal could certainly relate; trust was a fleeting thing and it took a long time to rebuild after one had been cast away by society and had the key thrown away. 

The woman, Marnie James, on the other hand, was the man’s total antithesis. She was young and outgoing, open and welcoming and Neal could tell she was curious about his sudden appearance. She greeted him warmly and offered to help train him, something Neal gladly accepted. His ability to flash his baby blues in order to gain someone’s trust was still firmly in place although, lately with his commitment to Sara, there was a slight unease when he flirted on a case, a fleeting sensation he’d thus far chosen to ignore. 

Neal glanced from the older, wary man to the pretty young woman; appearances were deceiving, as Neal knew all too well, and he buckled down and got to work.

WCWCWC

Reese Hughes rose from the conference table, feeling the usual creek in his knees as he stretched out.He was getting too old for this, he reflected, as he slowly moved away from the table. The monthly meetings with his fellow SACs were becoming a pain in the ass – taking place in a different city each time. He was no longer enjoying the travelling or the perks he used to love when he was younger and all Reese could think about was getting back to New Jersey to his wife’s home cooking and his warm, comfy bed. He’d been waiting more than twenty-four hours for a return call from the Associate Deputy Director – the third highest ranking individual in the Bureau. He’d had to grovel and call in a few favours to get all the way up the line and he feared that the man, who was not known for his warm, nurturing style of management, would dismiss him out of hand. He hated having to tow the party line although, working for the FBI, you learned early on what was expected of you – especially if you wanted to move up the ranks. 

Now that retirement was looming, he’d become less apprehensive about making waves within the Bureau. He had much less to lose now and he was willing to go to bat for his people when the situation required it. He’d managed to put his white collar team on the map in recent years, eliciting admiration from his cohorts across the country and truth be told, Reese Hughes knew all too well that Neal Caffrey’s sudden arrival on Peter’s team had been the catalyst for their unprecedented success. It had taken a while for him to admit, but in the end, Reese had begun to notice that, despite his earlier misgivings, the team’s newest arrival was yielding unprecedented results. The conman was willing to take risks and more often than not, those risks paid off. As a matter of fact, Caffrey was more of a danger to himself than to anyone else and Peter and Reese had worked hard to keep the man from getting himself killed on a few occasions.

He had to admit he admired the young man’s resourcefulness. Neal never did anything half-way whether at work or in his personal life and while he was under his watch, he and Peter had had to keep him safe at all costs – despite Neal’s constant predilection for getting into trouble. But more than anything, Reese had been a witness to Neal’s caring, charismatic personality – the guy loved people and Reese had concluded, after much observation, that Caffrey basically wanted what everyone else wanted in life: to belong and be a contributing member of society. He’d just never had any role models to lead him down that road – and Reese’s constant deliberation with himself was whether or not it was just too late for someone like Neal Caffrey to change his life around. Peter had been much more optimistic in that regard and Reese and his underling had discussed the question ad nauseum over the years. Now, it was time to put his money where his mouth was and support his team which had delivered for him in spades.

The cell phone he reluctantly kept on him 24/7 vibrated in his jacket pocket and Reese reached in to pull it out, all the while looking for a quiet place to take the call. He walked a few steps towards an empty office nearby and answered, holding his breath.

‘Mr. Hughes, I have the Associate Deputy Director on the phone’ came a female voice.

‘Thank you’ Reese said into his phone as he braced for what was coming.

WCWCWC

‘Have you worked here long?’ Neal asked the pretty blonde as he worked alongside her, prying open a large wooden crate and peeking inside.

‘Just a few weeks’ she responded with a bright smile.

She leaned in to help him remove the painting from the crate and signalled him to help her carry it over to a nearby work table. Her small frame belied her strength and Neal observed as she lifted the painting with ease, her smile never leaving her face.

Neal had decided he’d concentrate his investigation on the two new staff, at least to begin with. The other four had been vetted thoroughly both by MoMA _and_ the Bureau but he would keep his eyes open – after all, it might be difficult not to fall prey to the allure and pecuniary value of such treasures even for the straightest arrow. 

He had since found out that the Museum had taken Paul Stewart on as part of a work reinsertion program; he was getting on in years and had been deemed a low risk of recidivism. Besides, art forgery had never been his MO and he seemed to be sincere about finishing up his days on the outside, free from the shackles of the federal prison system. Neal’s concern where Stewart was concerned was more in line with the criminal contacts the man might have – he had easy access to valuable art and he could easily be the go-between in a very lucrative scam. 

Marnie, on the other hand, was bubbly and forthcoming – she seemed a little _too_ earnest and Neal had his doubts that someone masterminding the switch and bait operation that seemed to be in place, would put herself out there that way – but then again in the past, _he’d_ never shied from being in the spotlight, even when he was carrying out the boldest of crimes.

The young woman had obviously taken a shine to the new guy; she’d offered to show him around the place, giving him the lo down on who was who and who did what. Neal played along not wanting to antagonize her. 

‘Lunch time’ she said as she glanced at the clock. ‘Care to join me?’

WCWCWC

‘Sir, I really appreciate you taking the time to return my call’ Hughes said into his phone.

‘I really don’t know why this situation has come all the way up the ranks. I believe the Director of CCRS has already weighed in on this’ the man said, his voice rather impatient.

‘He has, sir, but this issue is important to my team and I want to see it through’ Hughes admitted.

‘You’re telling me you’re willing to make waves for a criminal informant, Hughes?’ the man at the other end said, his voice filled with arrogance.

‘I am, sir. This is no ordinary CI. Have you had a chance to read the report I sent?’ Reese asked, trying to keep his temper in check.

‘I have, Hughes. But I repeat what I believe you’ve been told at least twice before, this man is not an employee of the Bureau and therefore, his work will not be recognized at the awards dinner’ the man stated.

‘Sir, if I may. Caffrey has put himself out there as much as any other agent on my team. On the Gless case, he...’ Reese began before he was unceremoniously cut off.

‘I _am_ familiar with the Gless case’ the man interrupted. ‘But this is a commendation dinner. What would the optics be if we started to honour criminals at our very own awards dinner? We’d be a laughing stock’ the man responded curtly.

‘Mr. Assistant Deputy Director, all I can say is that I’m proud to have Caffrey on my white collar team and he deserves to be recognized for his contribution to the success of the Bureau. With all due respect, sir, the Bureau was more than happy to rake in the accolades when we broke some of those high profile cases’ Reese said, sticking his neck out even further.

He hoped his long and illustrious career wouldn’t be a casualty of his rant but at this point, he had nothing to lose; Neal deserved him going to bat for him and he wasn’t about to let him – or Peter – down.

‘Well, we’ll just have to agree to disagree then, Special Agent Hughes’ the man said, obviously ticked off. 

Apparently, his gamble hadn’t paid off and he’d pushed the man too far.

‘We’ll see you in New York in a couple of weeks’ the ADD said curtly just before hanging up.

Reese stared at his phone for a moment before putting in back in his jacket pocket. He’d blown it and now he had to be the one to break the news to Peter Burke.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

The phone on Sara Ellis’ desk rang at 10:20 on Friday morning just as the insurance investigator was finishing up her second cup of decaf. The real stuff had been giving the mom-to-be some serious heartburn and she’d reluctantly given the low-grade variety a try only to find that, no matter what anybody said, it just _wasn’t_ the same.

‘Sara Ellis’ she said distractedly into the phone.

‘Hi Sara, it’s Elizabeth’ came the barely recognizable voice on the other end.

‘Oh my God, El, what’s the matter? You sound terrible’ asked her concerned friend.

‘I’m not sure but I feel like hell. I’m not going to be able to make our lunch date’ El said, her voice barely a whisper.

‘That’s okay. I hope you’ll feel better tomorrow so we can go shopping’ said Sara as she continued to absentmindedly glance down the list of incoming e-mails on her computer screen.

‘I’ll let you know but...’ Elizabeth let the words hang in the air.

‘Well, get some rest, okay? We’ll talk later’ said Sara before hanging up.

Elizabeth Burke sat in her kitchen staring down at the phone in her hand and feeling like a horrible person. She’d just pulled a fast one on her good friend in the hopes of sparing her feelings and those of her boyfriend. Regardless of her motives, she felt terrible for lying and she hoped that Peter would get some good news soon from the higher ups in DC so they could all just get on with their lives.

‘Oh, no you don’t’ El said as she looked down at Satchmo who was staring back at her as if he knew what she’d just done.

‘You don’t get to judge me, okay? I’m doing this for Neal’ she said, guilt ridden before realizing the dog wasn’t due any explanations.

‘Oh!’ she concluded, flustered. ‘Never mind!’

WCWCWC

In downtown Manhattan, Nick Halden sat in the staff cafeteria of the MoMA, sharing a stale sandwich with the work crew he’d met just hours before. The group seemed friendly enough; some of the staff obviously had long standing work relationships while others, like Paul Stewart, sat alone in a corner nursing a cup of tea and a muffin. Marnie James, on the other hand, was in her element, holding court and telling risqué jokes to her co-workers while cozying up to Neal whom she’d somehow managed to sit next to. Her thigh was firmly pressed against his despite Neal’s attempts at creating a bit of space between them and she took every possible opportunity to touch his arm or glance his way as she spoke, her voice animated.

The way Neal saw it, he could fend off her advances or he could find a way of cozying up to her that didn’t involve extra-curricular activities he was not prepared to indulge in. The little voice in his head came alive and whispered in his ear;there was always another way!

WCWCWC

By the time lunch break was wrapping up in the MoMA staff cafeteria, a group of five was sitting down to a short meeting in the Sterling Bosch conference room. In attendance, was Sara Ellis and her boss, Winston Bosch as well as Roseanne Lebeau and her boss, Ronald Givens. Rounding out the group was Special Agent Peter Burke of the FBI. The group had just finished a viewing of Rivera’s ‘Child with Necklace’ and sat down to discuss the next steps towards getting the painting back to its rightful home at the Museum.

‘The Museum is very thankful to you for the recovery’ the Director of the museum said as he turned to face Sara.

He was a man of approximately sixty years old, who’d moved up the ranks at MoMA and who, to his dismay, had been around for much too long and had seen way too many thefts take place right under his nose during his tenure.

‘Well, to be honest’ Sara said, self-effacingly. ‘I wasn’t quite sure what I’d recovered until Mr. Caffrey pointed it out.’

The man grimaced at the sound of Neal’s name. He remembered him as a person of interest in a theft at the museum twelve years before. Although nothing had ever been proven, Neal’s name had continued to circulate and it had taken some doing for his underling to convince the blustery man that the FBI’s plan to parachute the ex-con into that prep room with all that rare art was a wise idea and would lead to unmasking their current thief.

‘Will it be a problem to keep the painting here under wraps until the case is resolved?’ Roseanne Lebeau asked, eager to change the subject.

Winston Bosch spoke up, his voice authoritative. ‘Not at all, it’s our pleasure to cooperate with the Museum and with the FBI until this case is wrapped up’ he said.

‘Well, we hope to have this little mystery solved in plenty of time for the exhibit’s opening’ Peter added. ‘I’m confident we can make some inroads in getting the culprit to tip his hand.’

The older man made a rather impatient noise, one Roseanne Lebeau recognized all too well from years of working with him and she rose to bring the meeting to an end.

‘You can count on our cooperation’ she said to Peter as she stood and shook his hand.

The museum contingent took their leave with Mr. Bosh following close behind, leaving Sara and Peter to bring up the rear.

‘I’m guessing the museum’s director isn’t crazy about Neal working undercover on the case’ Sara said as they walked out of the conference room.

‘Well, he’ll be _plenty_ happy when Neal cracks the case wide open’ Peter responded as he made his way to the elevator.

Although not always thrilled with Neal’s unorthodox methods, Peter’s faith in his partner never wavered; if anyone could get to the bottom of those thefts, it was Neal Caffrey.

‘Oh, and tell El I hope she feels better soon’ Sara said just as they prepared to part ways.

Peter frowned momentarily but recuperated quickly. He had no idea what Sara was referring to yet he was careful not to say anything that would contradict something El might have told her best friend.

‘I will... ’ he said, non-committally.

‘Hopefully, she’ll feel better for our shopping spree tomorrow’ Sara added.

Peter gave her an embarrassed smile; obviously El had decided that avoidance was the best tactic. He hated not coming clean to Neal - especially since it was now clear Neal knew all about the dinner. He figured Elizabeth was just buying some time until they knew for sure what the score was. The sooner he found out what the verdict was from DC, the sooner he could put them all out of their misery.

WCWCWC

The afternoon turned out to be more of the same back in the preparation room at the MoMA. Neal was getting to know the players and his suspicions were still fluctuating between the two more likely suspects: Paul Stewart and Marnie James. Getting to know the ex-convict was proving to be tough and he fleetingly remembered the wise decision they’d made to have both suspects followed. That would definitely give them an idea as to what Paul Stewart did when he left work at the end of the day and who he socialized with. 

As far as Marnie James, she continued to smooth talk Neal, offering to help him get better acquainted with the goings on. As lunch had wrapped up, she’s practically cornered him in the back of the cafeteria, making the moves on him. He’d recovered with his usual charm intact but he was quickly realizing that he’d have to put some physical distance between himself and the pretty blond if he was going to do an effective job. Whether she was simply trying to distract him or was just another victim of his irresistible appeal, he hadn’t yet figured out and he wasn’t quite sure which of the two options he preferred. By the end of the afternoon, Neal didn’t want to have to turn down any possible overtures on her part so he made some excuse, beating a hasty exit and claiming to have previous plans.

Of course, he _did_ have plans. He was going home to his wonderful girlfriend, the mother of his unborn child and he was looking forward to spending some quality time with Sara on the weekend before having to return to the museum on the following Monday. But before he could head home, he wanted to make a quick detour to the Federal Building. Peter had texted him to let him know that they had brought in Sam the Sham for questioning and Neal was most eager to hear what the man had to say for himself.

WCWCWC

Sam the Sham sat in the interrogation room of the White Collar offices looking like a rat caught in a trap. He looked around furtively, waiting to be questioned while Diana, Jones and Neal stood outside the room watching him squirm.

‘He looks awfully nervous’ Diana said as they continued observing him.

‘It’s not every day you get shaken down by the FBI; poor guy’s probably wondering who ratted him out’ Neal replied.

‘And _you_ wouldn’t have any idea who that might be?’ Jones asked as he looked sideways at Neal.

Neal gave him a non-committal shoulder shrug and returned his attention to what was going on behind the glass. Peter had just walked in and was about to put the fear of God into the poor hapless fence. Peter Burke in an interrogation room with a nervous perp – as a spectator sport, it didn’t get much better than this.

‘Look, I’ll be straight with you’ Peter said as he settled in across from the man. ‘I’m only interested in how you got your hands on _one_ of those paintings you tried to fence the other night – the Rivera.’

Sam looked at him with a question mark in his eyes; he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed and he was most certainly not an art connoisseur. He fenced anything he could get his hands on, going where the money was and all he cared about was how much his potential clients – of which he had many – were interested in paying for any given item.

  
‘The one with the kid with the necklace’ Peter explained, dumbing it down to the man’s level.

Sam’s eyes lit up in understanding as he realized which painting the Fed was talking about.

‘I got it from a guy I heard about from… another guy…on the street’ he said vaguely, trying not burn any of his sources.

‘And where did you _get_ the painting?’ Peter asked.

‘I was told to show up at the Marvel Gallery and ask for Scott. My source had told me the street value for the piece so I gave this Scott guy his cut and walked out with the painting’ said Sam.

The faster he told this guy what he wanted to know, the faster he could get the hell out of this place; he was getting hives just sitting there.

‘And how much was his cut?’ Peter asked.

‘Twenty thousand’ Sam answered without batting an eyelash.

In the fence business, he counted on his contacts who were much more knowledgeable to give him an approximate street value – most times, he came up on top although he had gotten burned a few times. Such was the life of a fence.

‘I guess there’s no point in telling you to stay out of trouble’ Peter said as he looked the man up and down, deciding he was wasting his time. ’All right, scram’ he said.

Sam didn’t wait a second longer and he made his way out the room and back to the streets to fence another day.

Peter looked up towards the one way mirror with a satisfied grin.

‘And that, boys and girls…’ he said smugly. ‘…is how it’s done’

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

‘So, what’s wrong with Elizabeth? Is it the flu?’ Neal asked as he and Sara sat down to dinner that night.

Everything surrounding the upcoming commendation dinner seemed to be shrouded in mystery. When he’d arrived at the office earlier, he’d walked in on Jones and Diana, having an animated chat about something or other, noticing them both shutting down as soon as he’d stepped into the room. Add to that the fact that Peter had been totally avoiding the subject and now, Elizabeth was backing out of the shopping plans she’d had with Sara at the last minute. Neal wasn’t usually a suspicious guy but he _did_ know basic math and right now two plus two was adding up to a big fat four!

‘I’m not sure, but she sounded awful’ Sara answered as she continued playing with her food.

Her appetite had been fluctuating between ravenous and ‘bird-like’ over the past couple of weeks as she’d struggled with morning sickness and Neal had made it his personal mission to make sure she ate enough every day – especially protein which, he’d read, was important to the baby’s development. 

He frowned at her as she continued fussing with her food and she gave him a ‘ _mind your own business, Caffrey’_ glare in return.

‘Sara, please eat!’ Neal pleaded before returning to the topic at hand. ‘Did you reschedule?’

‘Neal, what’s going on with you? Since when are you so invested in my shopping plans?’ Sara asked as she took one reluctant last bite and stood to put her dirty plate in the sink.

Neal followed suit, standing beside her with a look of confusion on his face.

‘It’s just that ever since she first mentioned the commendation dinner, it’s become this big, dark secret that nobody wants to talk about’ he said.

‘I thought you were going to mention it to Peter.’

‘I was but... I haven’t had the chance to be alone with him’ he admitted.

‘Well, what do you _think_ is going on?’ she asked, turning to face him and placing a hand on his chest.

Neal shrugged as he pulled her in for a hug. Frankly, he’d been spending way too much time for a man his age wondering if maybe he’d been shunned and wasn’t invited to the party. If that _was_ the case, why hadn’t Peter just told him he wasn’t welcome instead of skirting around the issue? Sara was right, he needed to grow a pair and ask his partner what was going on - point blank. 

He supposed there were worse things in life than being excluded from a celebration with the team he’d been working with for the past three years – although, at the moment, he couldn’t think of a single one.

WCWCWC

The weekend was unusually quiet with the Burkes avoiding Neal and Sara and Neal and Sara pretending they didn’t notice that the Burkes were avoiding them. It was a rare weekend when they didn’t get together socially, especially now that Sara was pregnant. Elizabeth was excited about the eventual arrival of their godchild and she enjoyed doting on her friend, usually meeting up with her for lunch or inviting the couple over for dinner. But she’d called to let Sara know she wasn’t feeling much better and Neal’s suspicions continued to escalate. He toyed with the idea of popping in on his handler but thought better of it; he didn’t want to appear paranoid and he wanted to give Peter a chance to bring up the subject in his own time.

On Saturday night, the couple went out to dinner and Sara ate an eight ounce filet mignon to Neal’s surprise and delight – no doubt making reserves for the coming week. She was exhausted when they got home and she lay down, ostensibly to rest for a few minutes but by ten o’clock, it was obvious she wasn’t going to be getting up until the next morning so Neal made his way over to the bed and gently got her out of her clothes with barely a rise out of her as she basically slept through the entire exercise. He sat her up as she mumbled incoherently and pulled an old t-shirt of his over her head and returned her to the bed, kissing her baby bump and tucking her in for the night.

The silence in the apartment was deafening so Neal put on some soft music and took out his sketch pad from the hidden back room. For the past few weeks he’d been working on a concept for a mural in the baby’s room. June had insisted on bringing down the wall separating the back of the apartment with the bedroom on the other side. She wasn’t sure what the couple’s long term plans were but she wanted the baby to have his own room; she was not so secretly hoping that they would stay in the apartment after the baby was born. 

The couple hadn’t talked much about where they’d be living – together or separately – after the baby’s arrival but Neal was hoping Sara would stay on. He glanced longingly at her sleeping form.They’d never discussed it formally but he’d taken for granted that all three of them would continue to live together at June’s when the baby arrived. Although Sara’s move to Riverside Drive had been temporary at first and had been dictated by her need to recover from the injuries she’d suffered from her nasty encounter with Jonathan Martin’s goons, she still had her apartment and she was showing no signs of giving it up. She visited regularly, checking things out, picking up her mail and she’d even slept there on a couple of occasions when Neal had gone undercover. 

As far as Neal was concerned, however, he liked things fine the way they were and he assumed they would be living together as a family. He smiled at the notion; a family... something he’d never had growing up. Life had somehow conspired to give him exactly what he’d wanted since he was a little boy – a family of his own to belong to.

WCWCWC

Monday turned out much like Friday for Nick Halden as he toiled away at the museum, gathering information and spying on his co-workers. By late afternoon, Neal sat in the conference room in the White Collar offices of the Federal Building with Peter, Jones and Diana, sharing the intel they’d managed to get on the two suspects and revealing what he’d managed to uncover during his long, gruelling day in the dungeon of the MoMA.

‘Paul Stewart looks like he’s walking a straight line’ Jones said as he glanced over his notes. ‘We’ve been following him since the middle of last week and he only leaves the house he shares with his sister to go to work and run errands. On the weekend, he was spotted cutting her grass and taking her grocery shopping at the local mall. Other than that, he hasn’t met with anyone.’

Neal nodded; the more time passed, the more he was inclined to eliminate the ex-convict as a suspect. Paul Stewart looked like a tired old man who’d finally given up the life in favour of living out his days quietly, without making waves. Neal could relate to that; living the life meant you always slept with one eye open, wondering when you’d be found out and the choice between finishing out one’s last fleeting days in jail or free to roam, especially for a person getting on in age, was a no-brainer.

‘Marnie James, on the other hand, slipped our surveillance twice over the weekend. She’s got one busy social life, that’s for sure. She went out dancing on Saturday night at a club in Manhattan, she met with friends for brunch on Sunday and she visited a couple of galleries in the afternoon including – get this – the Marvel Gallery’ Jones said.

The foursome exchanged knowing looks at the mention of the gallery’s name which had been the site of the exchange between Sam the fence and his contact, the mysterious Scott.

‘Could be coincidence’ Peter said, always needing to get solid evidence. ‘Diana, check the place out but don’t flash your badge. See if you can get eyes on this ‘Scott’ fellow’ he instructed.

‘I’ll pay them a visit tomorrow’ she answered dutifully.

‘Well, Marnie took me aside today and told me that she’d heard about my _special_ talents’ Neal said with a gleam in his eye – although it was unclear whether Neal was referring to his forgery skills or his legendary reputation between the sheets.

‘She asked if I was interested in a job on the side although she wouldn’t specify what that might be’ Neal clarified. ‘She insisted I go over to her place tomorrow night for drinks so we could discuss things.’

Jones gave Neal an eye roll – the curse of Caffrey and his animal magnetism. 

‘Sounds like she knows about Nick Halden’s checkered past. Do you think she’s wants to bring you in on the scheme?’ Diana asked.

Neal shrugged. ‘I don’t know... but I need to find out.’

‘So, are you going over to her apartment?’ Peter asked as he looked across the table at Neal.

‘I told her that I’d love to come over for drinks – _if_ I could bring along my protective boyfriend’ Neal answered matter of factly.

‘You did _what_?’ Peter interrupted, his voice loud.

‘I told her I had a boyfriend’ Neal repeated calmly.

‘What did you do that for? I’ve never known you to shy away from a little harmless flirting?’ Peter said.

‘That’s just it, Peter. It _wasn’t_ harmless. Her intentions are clear; she might want to discuss business but that’s not all she wants, she obviously wants me’ Neal added without a shred of humility. ‘I needed to find a way to stay close to her without having to slip between the sheets to do it. Telling her I was gay was the first thing that popped into my head.’

‘And now, you need to find yourself a boyfriend before tomorrow night’ Peter stated flatly.

Neal gave the room a small shrug/raised eyebrow combination that left little to the imagination before turning back to look at Peter. 

‘Oh no, you don’t’ Peter said, his voice shrill. ‘You’re not dragging me into your little… charade.’

Diana and Jones looked on amused, knowing better than to say a single word lest they be dragged into the deception.

‘Peter, it’s one night’ Neal answered, his voice low. ‘We can check out her place, see if there’s anything lying around that could incriminate her.’

‘Forget it Neal. I’m not posing as your boyfriend’ Peter argued as Diana and Jones continued to observe the heated discussion.

‘Peter! What are you talking about? You’ve been undercover lots of times, this is no different’ Neal said, amused. ‘Where’s your self-confidence, anyway? You know what they say: men who are secure about their sexuality don’t feel threatened by others’ sexual orientations.’

‘They do _not_ say that’ Peter said as Diana nodded, disagreeing with her boss.

Neal repeated the all knowing eyebrow raise, looking to his two colleagues for support and waited for Peter to finally agree to his crazy scheme.

‘Dammit Neal!’ Peter sighed, exasperated. ‘How do you always get yourself into these situations?’

‘Just lucky, I guess’ Neal responded, not about to be made to feel badly about his plan.

‘Look, it’s short term… pain… for long term gain. This could break the case wide open’ Neal said as he finally stood to leave.

‘And besides, it wouldn’t hurt you to get more in touch with your feminine side’ he added as he reached the door and turned to face the trio. Getting Peter going was like taking candy from a baby.

‘Oh, and pick me up at seven, lover’ Neal added as he blew his handler a kiss.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

There were moments working at the White Collar unit when Clinton Jones and Diana Berrigan knew better than to ask too many questions - and _this_ was definitely one of those moments. They sat at their respective desks pretending to work, exchanging furtive glances with each other and trying to ignore the loud voices coming from Reese Hughes’ office as the man tangled with their boss. They could hear Neal’s name being bandied about – not an unusual occurrence since most of the arguments Peter Burke had with his boss over the past few years were about his criminal informant.

Reese could see the curious faces staring up towards his office where he sat arguing with his underling and he cursed the damn glass walls as he’d done dozens of times over the years. Whoever designed those ridiculous see-through offices had no regard for the importance of confidentiality. He stood momentarily, moving towards the door to pull down the blinds he’d had installed to allow for a minimum of privacy – whatever he did, he had no doubt that Peter’s voice could be heard bellowing all the way down to the 20th floor beneath them.

‘Peter!’ Reese admonished. ‘Please! Keep your voice down!’

Reese glared at the handful of employees whose eyes were turned their way and pulled the cord roughly, practically bringing the blinds crashing down before returning to his seat behind the desk.

‘I went all the way up the line to the Assistant Deputy Director and he was _not_ amused that I hadn’t let up’ he explained.

‘But Reese, this is totally ridiculous. These bigwigs are the same people who sent those letters of congratulations when we solved the Gless case’ Peter repeated for the second time.

‘I know that, Peter, and I sent along that report just to remind them of the lengths Caffrey had gone to to get that girl back’ Reese explained. ‘But they’re adamant that honouring the work of a criminal at a commendation dinner is not going to happen. They’re more concerned about the optics than about doing the right thing.’

Peter paced – the few steps he _could_ pace in front of Hughes’ desk – and ran his hand through his hair. He’d dared to believe that, with Reese finally on board, the higher ups would finally see things their way. Obviously, he’d overestimated his boss’ influence with the crowd in DC.

‘How am I supposed to stand up there and accept an award on behalf of the team when the main player on the team is sidelined...’ Peter asked rhetorically.

‘Peter, you _have_ to do this for the rest of the team – this is a big honour for the New York office’ Reese began.

Peter shook his head; although he’d said it in jest, he was realizing that he had _some_ , albeit minimal, control over the situation. He _could_ make them all look bad by refusing to attend the dinner... let _them_ deal with the fallout from his snub. Of course, such a move would eventually come back to haunt him in the years to come when it came time for promotions or special assignments but at the moment, he couldn’t care less.

‘I know you’re angry, Peter’ the older man continued. ‘But, you have to believe me, I gave it everything I had...’

Peter let out a loud sigh and turned to leave, trying to keep his temper in check. He managed to do not too badly until he stepped into his office, slamming the door as he disappeared from sight.

Diana looked over at Jones and frowned; it was a crapshoot as to whether they should leave him alone or not when he was this angry. Without giving it much thought, she got to her feet and before she knew what she was doing, she was gently knocking on the door to her boss’ office.

‘WHAT?’ she heard from behind the door before she opened the door a crack to see if it was safe to enter.

‘Boss?’ she said unsure of the welcome she about to get.

‘Diana’ Peter said, his voice returning to normal. ‘Sorry, come in.’

She took a tentative step and Peter laughed sardonically .’It’s okay’ he said. ‘I promise not to bite.’

‘I don’t want to butt in but, we couldn’t help overhearing some of that’ she said.

‘Reese tried all the way up the line but it’s official, Neal is not welcome to attend the commendation dinner with the rest of us’ Peter said, resigned to the situation.

‘I’m sorry Peter. I know it meant a lot to you to have Caffrey there’ she said. ‘...and if it means anything, most of us were on board with that.’

Peter nodded in thanks. He knew there would always be the skeptics where Neal was concerned but he’d seen how his CI had managed to worm his way into almost everyone’s heart over time. He let out a long slow breath as he thought of the next step: coming clean to his partner.

‘Now, I have to tell Neal the news. He’s known about the dinner for a few days but he hasn’t said anything. I’m sure he’s probably figured it out by now...’ Peter said, his voice trailing.

‘Do you want some help with that?’ Diana asked sincerely.

‘Thanks Diana. This is something I need to do by myself.’

WCWCWC

‘Oh honey, I’m so sorry’ El said as she and Peter sat at the dining room table, grabbing a quick bite before he returned to the undercover operation.

Peter looked down at the sandwich his wife had placed in front of him, pushing it away. He just couldn’t get it down as he thought of the night ahead. First, he had to play footsies with Neal on their undercover assignment then he had to break the man’s heart by giving him the verdict on the dinner.He was thinking a root canal sounded less painful and a lot more fun right about now.

‘Well, I can’t change their minds but I _could_ refuse to go to the dinner...’ Peter said.

The idea had been forming more clearly as he’d driven home and he knew that his absence at the dinner would make a clear statement to those in attendance and make the big wigs from DC look bad.

‘That could have consequences for your future’ El warned.

‘I know... but at least I’d be standing up for what’s right’ Peter said.

‘Isn’t part of what’s right to be there for Diana and Jones and the rest of the team too?’ El asked wisely.

She was right - it was a no win situation. Snubbing the event wouldn’t change anything for Neal – he still wouldn’t be able to attend – but at least Neal would know Peter was willing to stand beside him on a question of principle.

Elizabeth got up and moved to stand behind Peter, bringing her arms around his neck. She whispered in his ear.

‘Whatever you decide, I’m behind you, honey. I know you’ll do the right thing.’

WCWCW

‘That was Elizabeth. She’s going to come over and visit while you boys go out on your hot date’ Sara said as she hung up the phone.

She moved towards the bed where Neal had laid out his date night clothes, some dress pants and a shirt she’d never seen him wear before.

‘That looks pretty artsy’ she said as she ran her hand over the shirt.

Neal gave her a knowing look and a shrug. 

‘So, are you finally going to ask Peter about the commendation dinner tonight?’

‘I figured I’d bring it up on the way home – you know, just before the goodnight kiss’ he said as he gave her a naughty smile.

Sara giggled. She loved how Neal always thought outside the box when it came to cases – and she’d appreciated the fact that he’d found a way to get close to the alleged perpetrator without having to give in to her unwanted advances.

‘Well, I’d rather know you’re out on a date with Peter than worry that she’s plotting ways of luring you into her bed’ Sara said as she faced Neal and laced her arms suggestively around his neck.

‘Well, you have nothing to worry about - on either score’ Neal said as his hands moved around her waist, finally settling on her hips.

He pulled her in, feeling the glorious fullness of her belly against him.

‘Mmmm’ he murmured as he brought his lips to her neck and took a nibble.

‘Neal, Peter’s going to be here in twenty minutes’ she warned although his warm mouth on her neck was doing unexpected things to her insides.

‘I can be quick’ Neal whispered, his lips never leaving that hypersensitive spot behind her ear.

She moaned, trying to keep a cool head yet unable to resist the feeling of his lips against her sensitive skin.

‘All right then, be quick’ she sighed as she lifted her leg up around his hips and pulled him in tighter.

WCWCWC

‘Are you going to tell Sara the truth?’ Peter asked as they began the long climb up to Neal’s apartment.

‘Yes!’ El responded adamantly. ‘I hated lying to her in the first place and I owe her an apology.’

Peter looked at her sideways thinking of his own need to come clean. He and Neal had come such a long way and although there was still the odd deception on Neal’s part, when it came to the important stuff, his CI could be counted on to be honest – which was more than he could say about himself lately. They arrived on the third floor and knocked, waiting to be let in. They waited an inordinate amount of time it seemed before Sara finally appeared, looking somewhat flustered, her hair tousled.

‘Sorry guys’ she said. ‘We were... Neal was...’ she began as Elizabeth gave her friend a knowing look.

‘Come on in’ Neal called from behind her as he came to her rescue. ‘I’ll be just a minute.’

The Burkes stepped in, noting the bed was unmade – something that just didn’t happen in Neal Caffrey’s apartment. Neal was a total neat freak and made his bed every morning without fail – but somehow the sheets were mussed and Neal was standing there, buttoning his shirt with a satisfied smirk on his face – it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what they’d just walked in on.

‘Hey sweetie’ Neal said as he approached Peter and gave him a peck on the cheek before Peter even had a chance to react.

‘NEAL!’ Peter shouted, flustered. ’Why do you always have to... push the envelope.’

‘And why do you always have to feel so threatened’ Neal responded as he pulled away, chuckling.

The women were enjoying the little scene and stepped back; they didn’t want to touch this with a ten foot pole. Although Peter could never be defined as a homophobe, he was nonetheless uncomfortable with discussing issues related to sexuality and he tended to hold very traditional views on such things, to El’s utter consternation. Neal, on the other hand, felt perfectly comfortable with the wide array of individual choices people made and he loved to challenge Peter on his white bread view of the world. But most of all, he just enjoyed teasing his partner every chance he got.

‘You want to help me with my shirt’ he cooed as Peter rolled his eyes at him.

‘Come on boys, play nice’ said El with a smirk.

‘Yeah, kiss and make up’ Sara added with a giggle.

‘How do I get myself into these impossible situations?’ Peter griped.

WCWCWC

Peter and Neal stood in the lobby of Marnie James’ apartment building, prepared to call up to be let in when Peter put his hand on Neal’s arm to stop him.

‘So, should I act...’ he stopped unsure how to say things without sounding politically incorrect.

‘...effeminate?’ Neal asked, somewhat exasperated.

Peter shrugged. He didn’t know much about being gay. Diana Berrigan was the first woman he’d really gotten to know who was gay and in high school, he’d know a few boys but that was the extent of his experience.

‘Peter, gay couples are just like any other couple. It’s just two men, that’s all. Do you feel the need to act all macho when you’re out somewhere with El?’ he asked, trying to make his point.

‘Nnno’ Peter stuttered.

‘Well, just be yourself. Gay men come in all shapes and sizes’ Neal said, stifling a giggle at his unwise choice of words. ‘Not every gay man is effeminate. What about Michael Sam? Or Jason Kinney from OPR?’

‘Jason Kinney is gay?’ Peter blurted out a little louder than he’d meant to.

‘Duh. Peter, get over it. Gay people are everywhere; I swear sometimes you act like some backwoods redneck. This is the twenty first century; get a grip’ Neal said as he finally pressed the small button.

‘Hello?’ came the female voice.

‘Hi Marnie, it’s Nick... and Peter’ Neal said.

‘Come on up’ she responded as they heard the door click open.

Unexpectedly, Neal grabbed Peter’s hand and pulled him through the door as Peter swallowed hard.What the hell had he gotten himself into?

‘Come on, babe’ Neal said as they strolled to the elevator hand in hand.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

‘I can’t believe Neal made this. It’s delicious!’ El said as she finished up the last crumbs of the chocolate cheesecake that up to a few seconds ago had been on her plate.

‘Well, right now he’s trying to tempt me with all the foods I love just to get me to eat’ Sara said as she pushed away her plate with half her piece of cake still sitting there.

‘Are you still feeling sick?’ El asked, concerned.

‘Well, I haven’t had morning sickness in four days, so fingers crossed’ answered Sara. ‘But my appetite really fluctuates a lot so I kind of have to go with the flow.’

Elizabeth Burke looked over at Sara Ellis, a woman she’d always admired for her strength and courage and who had recently crossed that line from acquaintance to friend. She realized she’d put off the inevitable long enough. She’d wanted to come clean to Sara the second she’s stepped into the apartment but she was embarrassed and they’d somehow managed to spend an hour chatting about everything but the elephant in the room, although said elephant was only visible to her eyes.

‘Sara, you know when I cancelled lunch last week’ Elizabeth began as Sara nodded, unaware of the confession which was coming.

‘Well, I wasn’t being totally honest with you’ she said before her courage evaporated. ‘I wasn’t sick’

‘Okay’ Sara said as she waited for the rest of the explanation.

‘Remember when I told you about the commendation dinner?’ El continued.

‘Yeah, next weekend, right?’ Sara answered.

‘Well, I shouldn’t have’ El began. ‘At least not until Peter gave me the green light. You see, there’s been some dispute as to whether Neal could attend with the rest of the team.’

Sara’s eyes clouded over as she thought back to Neal’s concerns; maybe his suspicions hadn’t been so over the top after all.

‘Peter wanted to wait until he got a definitive answer from DC before talking to Neal about it and I kind of... spilled the beans prematurely’ El continued as things started to come into focus for Sara.

‘So I panicked and I thought the best I could do was... avoid you until we knew for sure’ El finally confessed.

‘And?’ Sara asked, afraid of the answer.

Elizabeth shook her head. ‘Peter and Reese Hughes went all the way up the line but the brass in DC wouldn’t agree to it.’

‘Oh, no! Poor Neal!’ Sara said imagining how her boyfriend would feel when he heard.

‘But that’s not fair’ she continued. ‘Peter’s always saying how their closure rate has almost doubled since Neal joined the team.’

‘I agree’ El said. ‘and Peter is devastated.’

Sara just stared ahead past Elizabeth as she began to imagine the impact that decision would have on Neal. He already struggled with feeling of self-worth, hiding behind that mask of his to keep from showing any pain or hurt. Being told he wasn’t worthy of recognition along with his colleagues would just feed into those feelings of insecurity, that fear that he could never be anything but a criminal doomed to repeat his past illicit behaviours. Since she’d gotten pregnant, she’d seen changes in Neal;he’d started to make some headway in his struggle to do the right thing, motivated by the desire to be the kind of man their child would be proud of someday. They’d spent many nights talking about Neal’s fears that he was somehow undeserving of a ‘normal’ life, of becoming a dad and Sara could tell Neal was gaining confidence when she looked into his excited eyes as they talked about their future.

‘Sara, I’m _so_ sorry. And I’m sorry I lied to you; there’s no excuse for that’ El admitted.

Sara snapped back to reality, meeting El’s gaze and seeing the sadness there.She nodded in response to her friend’s apology.

‘Neal is such a good person and he’s still paying for mistakes he made a long time ago. Sometimes, he thinks he’ll never be able to leave the past behind him’ Sara admitted to her friend.

Elizabeth listened, filled with shame and sadness. The only difference between someone like Neal Caffrey and the three of them was the fact that Neal hadn’t had a strong role model growing up – a path which had led him to his current predicament. He was paying a bitter price for his poor choices and he kept having to swim counter stream just to keep his head above water. Finding a way to survive for a charming, intelligent man like Neal had been easy as long as he kept that mask firmly on his face. Events seemed to be conspiring to prove to him that once that mask was removed, he wasn’t worthy of the same things as everyone else around him.

Elizabeth reached out to touch Sara’s hand but the gesture did little to placate Sara who found herself thinking ahead to what words of wisdom she could possibly find to comfort Neal when he eventually made his way home.

WCWCWC

‘You have a lot of talent’ Neal said as he took in some of the many works of art on Marnie’s walls.

‘Well, like I said, I like to dabble’ she responded as she sat across the couch from the two men.

Neal sat with his arm on the back of the couch, his hand lying limply on Peter’s shoulder as the older man sipped nervously on his beer. They had agreed that, at some point, Peter would leave the room ostensibly to use the facilities, leaving Neal to see what Marnie’s proposal entailed. 

There was a knock at the door and Marnie stood to answer.

‘Oh, that’ll be my brother. I invited him over so we could talk about that... project I mentioned’ she said as she momentarily left the room to answer the door.

Peter and Neal exchanged looks as they waited, Neal giving his partner a head nod towards the washroom. This would be a good time for Neal to be left alone with the woman; he was wearing his trusty one way communication device on his wrist and Jones was nearby in the van recording the proceedings, much to Peter’s chagrin.

Neal had been playing up their relationship since they’d arrived, mostly just to annoy Peter. He’d mentioned Peter’s boring job as an accountant, the trip they’d taken to Maine last summer and Peter’s propensity for sleeping late on weekends when Neal wanted to go antiquing. Two could play that game, Peter thought and after a while, he’d begun to get into it, commenting on Neal’s snoring (which he admitted to finding annoying yet endearing) and the way Neal left his socks on their bedroom floor (which he found annoying and not the least bit endearing). 

If Caffrey was going to have some fun at his expense, so could he.

‘Boys, this is my brother, Scott’ said Marnie when she returned with a young man on her arm. ‘He works over at the Marvel Gallery.’

Peter and Neal managed to keep straight faces, imagining the look on Jones’ face as he sat listening in the van a block away. The connection was now obvious; all they needed to do now was wait for Marnie to plot and carry out another theft, something which seemed destined to happen. The couple got up to shake hands with the newcomer and Peter remained standing as everyone took a seat.

‘Could I use your washroom?’ he asked as Marnie directed him down the hall.

‘I’ll be back in a minute, babe’ he said to Neal as he squeezed his CI’s hand.

He was having fun giving Neal a taste of his own medicine although he knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it back at the office when they finally went through the tapes.

‘Hurry back’ Neal said, squeezing back – a little too hard.

The moment Peter left the room, Marnie leaned in towards Neal. She only had a few minutes to make her pitch and she didn’t want to waste a second.

‘Look, Nick’ she said, her voice low. ‘We’ve heard about your exploits and your special talents. Are you interested in making a little cash on the side?’

‘I’m all ears’ Neal said with a look of mischief.

‘Well, Scott and I have a little side thing going that I think you’ll find interesting – and lucrative’ the young woman said as Neal smiled his luminous Caffrey smile.

WCWCWC

It was well past ten o’clock, their business concluded when Neal and Peter finally stood to leave. They’d gotten more than they’d hoped for; Marnie having admitted that she and her brother had already switched out four paintings from the prep room at the museum with forgeries, two of which she’d painted herself. The painting they were targeting next was more intricate and when she’d first met Nick, she’d googled him only to find that he’d been arrested for forging paintings, excellent forgeries and she’d hatched the plan to approach him to collaborate on the caper for a very tidy sum.

‘Marnie, thanks for having us over’ Neal said as he smiled at his co-worker. ‘But my big bear here becomes very grumpy if he doesn’t get a full seven hours of sleep...’ he added, lacing his arm in Peter’s.

‘Oh, honey, stop it! You’re embarrassing me’ Peter said with a shy smile. ‘I’m sure Marnie doesn’t want to hear about that - or about your annoying habit of trimming your toenails at the kitchen table.’

Neal glared at Peter and Marnie gave them both a look of disdain. If she’d been sweet on Neal up to this point, that vivid image had been more than enough to put a damper on any romantic notions she might have had to begin with.

She walked them out, telling Nick she’d see him in the morning and watched as the couple made their way down the hall, bickering.

WCWCWC

‘Toenails? Really, Peter?’ Neal said as they walked one block over to where the van sat waiting for them.

‘You started it’ Peter responded as they stepped in.

‘Well hello you two lovebirds’ Jones called out to them as they came into view.

Peter rolled his eyes at him. ‘If you ever repeat any of this...’ he began before Jones interrupted.

‘I don’t have to repeat it Peter, it’s all been recorded for posterity’ he reminded his boss with a sly smile.

‘We have an admission of guilt’ Neal said, filling in Peter as to what had transpired when he’d left the room. ‘But the case will be a lot more solid if we catch her in the midst of making the swap.’

Peter nodded in agreement; he liked his cases airtight.

‘Did you find anything in the bedroom?’ he asked.

Peter shook his head. ‘There were more copies lying around but I don’t know if any of them match the paintings at the museum.’

‘So where are you two boys off to now? Drinks? Clubbing?’ Jones asked, teasing them mercilessly.

‘Home, to the women we love’ Peter said without hesitation.

And with that the two men exited the van and walked the few steps to Peter’s car, climbing in.Unbeknownst to Neal, Peter had another most unpleasant subject he needed to discuss with him before they arrived back at Riverside Drive. Peter started the car and prayed he’d be inspired to find the right words to say; words that wouldn’t totally devastate his CI.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

‘Maybe I can talk to Lebeau about getting you the afternoon off tomorrow so you can get started on that forgery’ Peter said as the two men sat side by side in companionable silence.

Besides the office, Neal and Peter probably spent more time in the car than anywhere else. They were joined at the hip and travelled together to crime scenes and meetings to say nothing of those long, endless stakeouts – hours on end of sitting side by side invading each others’ personal space. Although they were both happy to make small talk most of the time, they could do comfortable silence just as well. 

‘That would help’ Neal said as he looked out at the reflection on the wet pavement up ahead. ‘I guess even a guy like Nick Halden has to visit the dentist sometime.’

Peter chuckled softly. It was early November and before long the rain would become flurries, followed by the bitter winter cold. Neal had been debating whether or not to bring up the issue of the commendation dinner all night; he was hoping Peter would say something first but the longer his partner avoided the subject, the more apprehensive Neal was getting.

Peter kept a running dialogue going in his head as the wipers continued their hypnotic thump; he wanted to wait until he pulled up in front of June’s before he tackled the sensitive subject.Mentioning the higher ups’ decision in passing while he was driving, seemed to show a lack of respect for Neal’s feelings. Although he suspected Neal would make light of it, Peter knew better. For Neal, this would be just another nail in the coffin, just one more example of how he could never fit into life on the right side of the law – or at least Peter feared that’s how he would perceive the snub.

Peter wanted to be able to see his face when he told him about the commendation dinner. He’d been working with his CI for close to three years now and he knew that, despite his uncanny ability to camouflage his true feelings, Neal still had those tells Peter had learned to recognize over time. 

So instead, they spoke about Sara’s pregnancy, the case, the last event El had catered, all the while enjoying each other’s company in the cramped quarters. It was almost eleven o’clock by the time the Taurus finally pulled up in front of 87 Riverside Drive. Neal looked up to the third floor to see if the lights were still on, noting that they were; Elizabeth had texted Peter over an hour before to let him know she was going to cab it home. Sara was tired and frankly, so was she. 

Neal placed his hand on the door handle and hesitated for a moment – he had promised Sara he’d raise the issue of the dinner with Peter and he opened his mouth to speak.

‘Neal, hold on a sec’ Peter said as he turned off the car. ‘I want to talk to you about something.’

Neal turned to face Peter, the light from the nearby streetlamp nearby flooding the car in an insipid yellow glow. He noticed how Peter looked uncomfortable all of a sudden – not the usual state for the FBI agent.

‘You may have heard some talk around the office about the commendation dinner’ Peter said as Neal looked back at him expressionless.

‘This year is a little different. For one thing, it’s here in New York and… well, each year they highlight the work of one of the teams. This year, our division is being recognized for our high closure rate’ Peter added with just enough pride in his voice.

‘That’s great!’ Neal said with a neutral smile on his face.

‘You know Neal, ever since you joined the team, our closure rate has skyrocketed’ Peter said as he peered into Neal’s eyes.

Neal shrugged demurely. He knew his contribution had had a direct impact on the success of the team; after all, he could gloat with the best of them.

‘About a week ago, word came down from DC that only staff were invited to attend the dinner – no non-FBI staff, including CIs’ he said, trying to make it sound like an across the board decision.

Neal just sat there listening, not giving much away.

‘But Reese and I, well, we tried to get the decision overturned’ he continued. ‘We really felt that since the unit was being honoured you should have the right to be there.’

‘I take it you were unsuccessful’ Neal said glibly with one of his patented smiles plastered on.

Peter pulled his eyes away from Neal’s for a moment, unable to look at him. The rain was really coming down and he spoke a little louder in order to be heard over its sound on the car roof.

‘I want you to know that Hughes pulled out all the stops…’ he said.

‘Peter, it’s fine. Look, I’m _not_ an FBI agent. I get it’ Neal interrupted, his response tinged with just a touch of bitterness.

‘But it doesn’t make it right, Neal. Everybody in that office knows that you’re a big part of the success we’ve had’ Peter continued.

‘Don’t let Jones and Diana hear you say that’ Neal said, trying to keep things light – a typical deflection on his part.

Whenever he reverted to being glib, Peter knew Neal was hurt; it was his go-to behaviour whenever something happened that upset him. Peter had seen it time and time again over the years, especially when he’d taunted or teased him in the past – often times regretting his words as soon as they left his lips.

‘Jones and Diana have no problems with self-esteem… but they also know how hard you’ve worked in the past year to get us those arrests’ Peter added with sincerity.

‘Don’t worry about it, Peter. I understand’ Neal said, cutting him off and grabbing for the car door.

‘Thanks for going to bat for me’ he added as he put one foot out of the car.

Before Peter could even respond, Neal was out of the car and he watched as the CI ran up the steps to June’s house, trying to avoid getting totally soaked in the downpour.

Peter gave the steering wheel a frustrated smack; he could have handled that better, he fumed. 

WCWCWC

Neal fumbled for a moment as he tried to locate his house key. He’d been distracted by the conversation and hadn’t taken the time to fish for it in his pant pocket before he left the car. He cursed the damn tight jeans Nick was wearing as he struggled with getting the key out. He was aware that Peter hadn’t pulled away yet and he was anxious to get out of his sight as if Peter could read what he was feeling as he stood there in the pouring rain.

He finally got the door opened and stepped in, not bothering to turn back and wave to Peter as he usually did. He swallowed hard and shook his head, feeling beads of rain fall from his thick head of hair onto his jacket. The house was quiet; no sign of June or any of the staff so Neal checked to make sure they were all locked up for the night and began the long slow climb up to his apartment.

WCWCWC

Peter drove home slowly, his mind processing what had just happened. Neal was a strong, confident man (hell, make that overconfident) in so many ways but Peter knew that when it came to his very core, Neal still struggled with a lack of self-worth. Not having parents to nurture you and celebrate your individuality undeniably set you up for feelings of insecurity and Neal had done the best he could with what life had handed him. He’d found ways to keep himself safe – physically and emotionally – and anyone looking at him from the outside would think he’d done an incredible job at overcoming the trauma from those early years. 

But those wounds ran deep, and to Neal’s chagrin, they often resurfaced at the worst possible times, exposing his vulnerabilities, something he absolutely hated. It had taken some time for Agent Burke to see that; at first, all he’d seen was the arrogance and the cockiness that drove him around the bend but with time, he’d learned that much of it was a façade and he’d learned to appreciate Neal’s gentleness and generosity, hidden right under the surface.

‘Damn it!’ he cursed under his breath. Neal had worked so hard to be accepted on the team and it was still a struggle at times. Jones and Diana were still wary of Neal – as any good agents _should_ be - but Peter had seen the camaraderie develop as Neal continued to prove himself a worthy member of the team. He shook his head, realizing he was powerless to fix this particular situation; all he could do was be sensitive to what Neal was going through.

WCWCWC

Neal stepped into the apartment, noticing just how quiet it was. He’d been surprised to see the lights on when he’d glanced up earlier; it was late and Sara didn’t do late very well these days. Although many of the lights were on, he spotted her immediately, laid out on the bed, on top of the bed covers as she did when she was just resting her eyes for a few minutes.

He smiled at the sight of her. She’d obviously been trying – apparently without success – to wait up for him. He removed the wet jacket and walked gingerly over to the kitchen table to drape it over one of the chairs, taking off his shoes and leaving them there before heading back to the bathroom at the back of the apartment. He felt cold, inside and out, and although he was mostly a morning shower person, he suddenly craved the warmth of a hot shower. He stood under the hot spray for a long time, replaying the conversation he’d just had with Peter and enjoying the feeling of warmth on his skin.

When he came out, fifteen minutes later, clad in his usual silk sleep pants, the first thing he did was glance over at Sara once again. She hadn’t moved since he’d last checked on her and he proceeded to walk around the apartment turning off the lights before heading over to the bed. He wasn’t ready to go to sleep yet so he simply covered Sara’s sleeping form with the duvet not wanting to wake her, lest she start questioning him about his talk with Peter. He wasn’t ready to talk about it just yet and he grabbed his IPod and, leaving just one small light on, he settled on the couch, ear buds in his ears to try to digest what had just happened.

WCWCWC

Back in Brooklyn, Elizabeth was sitting up reading when Peter entered their bedroom. Knowing her husband as she did, it took her a millisecond to realize all was not well as he made his way over to where she lay, looking defeated. 

‘Hey honey’ she said as he sat on the edge of the bed.

He smiled but didn’t say anything. She knew enough not to ask; once he was settled in bed and she was nestled in his arms, she would get him to talk – she always did. She watched as he undressed and made his way to the bathroom, returning a few minutes later and turning off the lights before slipping in next to her in silence.

‘How did it go?’ she finally asked when she deemed the moment right.

‘You know Neal, on the surface it’s all good but...’ he began as he drew her to him.

‘He’s a big boy, honey, he’ll deal with it’ she said softly in the dark.

‘I know that but it still doesn’t make this right’ Peter said, always on a quest for what he deemed was just.

‘You know, sometimes we forget about the rough start Neal had in life. He looks like he’s always led a charmed life but you know, all those creature comforts and all that excitement he surrounds himself with... it’s just his way of not dealing with how he really feels about himself’ he continued.

‘Why Agent Burke - or should I say Dr. Freud, where is all this coming from?’ El said in jest as Peter snickered.

‘I’m serious, El. Sometimes, I look at Neal and I see a strong, confident man and other times... all I can see is a lost little boy.’

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

The sudden warmth that enveloped her was most welcome but the gentle movement that accompanied it caused Sara Ellis to stir from her restless sleep. She watched in the near darkness as Neal left her side and made his way over to sit on the couch, stopping to pick up his ear phones on the way. Short of picking up a paintbrush and getting to work on a blank canvas, listening to music was Neal’s favourite way of processing whatever issue he was grappling with – this she knew from the past few months sharing her life with the man. She kept her eyes locked on him, not daring to move and she watched as he settled on the couch, his head falling back and his eyes closed. She could tell by the way he moved that he was trying to sort something out - whether it was something related to their current case or the situation regarding the commendation dinner, she couldn’t tell. 

She lay there in silence, watching the man she loved and resisting the impulse to join him on the couch, at least just yet. Neal had his own way of processing things which began with letting new information fully seep into his psyche before trusting himself enough to react honestly to it. Unlike her, he did not respond spontaneously to events and situations. Whereas Sara reacted immediately and without filter when something happened that elicited some strong emotion on her part; Neal’s way was to respond in the moment with a measure of caution, in a controlled, guarded way, mask firmly in place. It usually took some time, but unless he was in full denial mode, Neal would then begin to allow himself to get in touch with how he was _really_ feeling about whatever was on his mind. This, she’d learned, was his way of protecting himself from getting hurt - not letting his true emotions show in the heat of the moment, sheltering himself from too much emotion, too soon. It was a safety valve of sorts and kept him safe from feelings he couldn’t quite understand – or cope with – in the heat of the moment.

She thought of the wonderful man she’d been discovering over the last little while. Living in close quarters made it harder for Neal to hide his true self from her and ever since that night a few months back when he’d blurted out that he loved her, she’d seen the trust factor between them sky rocket as he dared to share more and more of himself, uncensored. Of course, it was a case of one step forward, two steps back as Neal struggled with his need to protect himself from what he feared was inevitable pain but the pure joy and anticipation of becoming a father had somehow trumped Neal’s need to be ‘on’ at all times and he had continued to give Sara more and more glimpses into his caring, loving soul.

Neal felt the soft sound of Sibelius’ Sad Waltz wash over him like a soothing wave. It always helped him process things more clearly when he managed to push away all the unnecessary crap surrounding the root of what he needed to work out. In this case, it wasn’t a problem that needed solving per se, or a caper which needed careful planning – it was simply a nagging desire to figure out how he was _really_ feeling about what had happened in the car with Peter. 

As of late, he’d begun to let himself believe that he might someday have a ‘normal’ life, the kind of life Mozzie had always warned him _not_ to long for. The situation with Sara, although totally unexpected, had served to bolster his belief that maybe, just maybe, he _was_ entitled to be happy just like everybody else. He’d begun to project himself into the future, imagining himself as a dad, maybe even a husband if things continued the way they were going. Like everyone else who roams the earth, all Neal had ever wanted was to belong and he and Sara were slowly but surely building a future with each other and he’d begun to get lulled into what he now worried might be a false sense of security.

At work, his relationships were built on a strong foundation and even though he had moments of panic, wondering what the hell he was doing working with the FBI, most days, it felt right and congruent with his values and beliefs. Although he might be described as a career criminal, Neal had none of the characteristics of the self-centred, callous individuals they brought down on a daily basis. As time passed, he’d managed to con himself into thinking he was part of something bigger than himself, part of a team. It was clear now that he didn’t fit in nearly as much as he’d hoped he had.

His body began to relax in reaction to the soft couch and the beautiful piece by Sibelius when he was startled by a soft touch on his arm. He let out a small gasp, opening his eyes to find Sara sitting there next to him, her face calm and composed.

‘You startled me’ he said as he pulled out the ear phones.

She just smiled a gentle smile in response. ‘Sorry, I guess you didn’t hear me call your name.’

She folded her long lean legs up underneath her and turned to face him, her hand running lovingly through his still damp hair as he smiled back, happy to see her.

‘Rough night?’ she asked.

‘It was good’ he deflected. ‘We got what we needed and now I’ve got two days to get a forgery ready.’

‘What is it this time?’ she asked.

‘Some Peruvian piece I know nothing about’ he said, laughing. ‘...but I’ll figure it out.’

She sat and listened, waiting for him to come clean about what was really bothering him.

‘Oh, and I found out Peter can be a really mean boyfriend when he wants to be’ he added with a soft chuckle.

Sara wasn’t going to be deterred; she knew that whatever had Neal sitting up late at night in this state was most likely _not_ the case they were working on. No, whatever this was had to do with Peter – as it usually did. He was the yin to Neal’s yang, the ego to Neal’s id and whenever Neal became quiet and introspective, it was most often in response to something his handler had said or done forcing him to look in the mirror and take a good, long look at himself.

They sat in silence for a moment as Sara waited for him to share what was really on his mind. She knew better than to ask directly; that always carried the risk of the ex-con shutting down completely, something she didn’t want to have happen. And so she waited in what might have been for others, an awkward silence.

‘I finally found out what all the mystery was about’ he finally said as he took her free hand in his. ’Apparently, non-FBI staff are not welcome at the commendation dinner.’

Sara nodded and he realized she already knew.

‘Elizabeth told you?’

‘Yeah. Turns out she’s been avoiding me since last week. She’s been worried about hurting your feelings’ Sara replied.

Neal suddenly felt cold and he craved the warmth of Sara’s embrace; he let his head fall from where it lay on the back of the couch onto her shoulder as she put a protective arm around him and drew him near.

‘You know what the worst part is?’ he said his voice faraway. ‘I get it. I totally understand the optics of having a criminal at an FBI dinner.’

‘Ex-criminal’ Sara corrected as she placed her lips on his forehead and kissed him gently.

‘I guess I’m kidding myself if I think I can be like everybody else...’ he began, finally putting his thoughts and feelings into words.

‘Thank God for that!’ Sara said with a gentle laugh. ‘I love you just the way you are.’

Neal lifted his head and gave her a dirty look. ‘You know what I mean’ he said.

‘I do, sweetie, I do’ she said, turning serious.

She caressed his cheek as she continued. ‘I know it’s tough but until you get that anklet off, there will always be those who can’t see past it.’

‘Sara…’ Neal said, his voice aching. ‘Sometimes, I feel like I’m always going to be on the outside, looking in. Like I’m never really going to belong...’

She ran her hand lovingly up and down his shoulder as she listened, her heart breaking for him. Her place was not to judge or censor his feelings, just listen and make sure he knew how just how wonderful he truly was and how much he was loved.

‘It _will_ get better, Neal’ she said softly as she felt his hand resting on her tummy. ‘Someday soon, you’ll finally leave all this behind, unaccountable to no one but yourself.’

Neal let out a long slow sigh, his hand gently rubbing Sara’s baby bump.

‘Thank God for the two of you’ he whispered, his voice unsteady.

‘Neal, you deserve every good thing that’s happening to you. You’re a loving, wonderful man. And I know you don’t always think you deserve to have good things happen to you, but you do. Our baby is so lucky to have you as a dad.’

It was Neal’s turn to listen as Sara’s words washed over him like a soothing balm. She continued, the voice of reason.

‘This thing... with the dinner... it’s just, well, it has _nothing_ to do with you and what you’re worth to that team. It’s politics. That’s why Peter’s so upset. Elizabeth said he’s been agonizing for days now about telling you’ she said.

‘He has?’ Neal asked, curious.

‘Of course he has. El says he’s been losing sleep over this. He’s even threatening not to go to the dinner to protest the decision’ she added as Neal listened attentively.

To have Peter ready to go to bat for him and to know that Peter agonized about how he would be feeling meant the world to him. All Neal had ever wanted was to be worthy of Peter’s trust and his friendship. Peter represented all that was just and righteous and he had taken a chance on Neal, something the CI would always be grateful for.

He felt Sara’s warm body against his and suddenly, he needed to be reassured that she was there for the long run.

‘You and me…’ Neal said seemingly out of the blue. ‘It’s real, isn’t it?’

He was suddenly calling into question every good thing that was happening to him.

Sara gazed at him, love apparent on her face and she placed her hand on top of his as he continued to lovingly rub her belly.

‘ _This_ is as real as it gets, Caffrey’ she said, her voice faltering.

They were both damaged goods and she had her moments of doubt as well; worried that this – they – were just a mirage which might disappear in the blink of an eye. He saw the fleeting look of worry on her face and leaned in to place a soft kiss on her lips, suddenly feeling the need to reassure her.

‘Thank you’ he whispered as his eyes locked with hers in the quiet room.

‘Now, do you think you’re ready to come to bed?’ she asked, jostling him.

‘In a minute’ he said as he pulled her in tighter.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

‘All right people, listen up!’ Peter said at the early morning meeting. ‘Caffrey here needs to deliver a forgery of this painting to Marnie James by 10:00 Friday night.’

Peter held up a photograph of the Morillo painting as Neal glanced at the reactions around the room. He knew that what he did was still intriguing to his FBI comrades and he enjoyed watching their faces as they pretended not to be impressed by his unique talents.

‘Now, Roseanne Lebeau tells us this painting is due to go up in the west wing of the exhibit hall sometime on Saturday so Marnie James and her partner have a small window of opportunity to make the swap. Neal’s going to try to narrow the timeline but we fully expect that they’ll try to make the switch late Friday night.’

Diana chimed in. ‘The piece is called Girls at the Zoo, street value anywhere between two and three hundred thousand – if they have the right buyer, that is. But James was very specific about this piece so we suspect they already have someone lined up.’

‘So, I need a team on James and I also need someone keeping an eye on her brother Scott in case they’ve got something else up their sleeve. They might have other irons in the fire that we don’t know about. New pieces are going up in the exhibit hall every day so if they’re targeting any other pieces, they’re going to start to feel pressured to move quickly’ Peter added.

‘Jones, you and Stevens take Scott – I want him monitored twenty-four hours a day until this is over. Diana, I need you and Blake to keep your eyes on Marnie. When she’s at the museum, Neal’s got her covered but I want her followed the rest of the time just in case.’

‘You got it, boss’ Diana responded.

‘Now Nick here got his boss to give him the afternoon off so he can get started on the forgery. This is a short turnaround time’ he said as he turned to Neal. ‘Are you going to be able to make the deadline?’

Neal gave him a smug, ‘what do you think’ look as he swivelled on his chair, his swagger firmly back in place.

‘Did you get everything I asked for?’ he asked.

He’d been up since five o’clock in the morning, researching the piece and making a list of the supplies he’d need to successfully pull it off. He was planning to spend as much time as he could with the original before he got started. 

‘Everything will be at your place by noon’ Peter said as he turned to one of the probies and handed him a list.

Neal needed to start his day at the museum by 8:30 and he didn’t want to be late. ‘Don’t skimp on anything’ he said as he rose to leave. 

‘All right, let’s go’ Peter said in his cheerleading voice. ‘With any luck, we can have this one wrapped up within 72 hours.’

The group dispersed with Diana hanging back for a second while both she and Peter gathered up the documents they’d brought in to the meeting.

‘So, how did it go last night?’ she asked with a bit of a chuckle. Word was getting around that Nick and Peter had made a most convincing couple.

‘Sounds like Jones has already hung me out to dry’ Peter said as he looked sideways at Diana.

‘Just the broad strokes’ she admitted. ‘But it sounds like you and Caffrey got into a pissing match to see who could be the worst boyfriend.’

‘Let’s just call it a draw’ Peter said as he prepared to leave.

‘Oh, boss’ Diana said, as an afterthought. ‘Did you get a chance to talk to Neal about the dinner on Saturday night?’

She knew from the look she’d seen on his face the day before that he hadn’t been looking forward to having that conversation.

‘Yeah, we talked about it on the way back’ Peter said not giving much away.

Diana stared back, not asking the question she was burning to ask.

‘Awww, you know Neal. He acted like I was giving him the weather forecast’ Peter said, his voice serious. ‘But I know it’s gotta hurt. He’s put in blood, sweat and tears around here and to be snubbed like that...’

He could feel his blood boiling all over again as he thought of the impossible situation the brass in DC had put him in. Diana nodded in response. The CI drove her crazy at the best of times but she admired how he went all out when he committed to something and three years after he’d strutted into the Bureau, she had learned to see the soft side of the man. Plus, no one livened up a party like Neal Caffrey – and truth be told, she’d been looking forward to sharing the special night with him.

‘For what it’s worth, I’m sorry it didn’t work out’ she said as she exited the room leaving Peter to stare off into space.

WCWCWC

By lunchtime, Neal was back at the apartment, clad in old chinos and the usual undershirt, staring at a blank canvas. The moment just before he started on a new project was always the same: exhilarating and daunting in equal measures. The sheer starkness of the canvas held the promise of anything he could possibly imagine although he always had a fleeting trepidation that this might be the one time his inexplicable talent would mysteriously vanish and fall short of the mark.

He checked over the supplies the probie had left for him, admiring the high end materials. Although this forgery would likely be destroyed once the sting was over, Neal was always compelled to do things right. He couldn’t bear shoddy work, be it a forgery, a theft or a pickpocket attempt. If there was one thing he’d learned back in his conman days, it was that things deserved to be done right; there was pride in having given the best of one’s self – even in illicit activities. 

He’d spent the morning studying the original painting and although he wasn’t very familiar with the artist, he’d been pleased to discover that Daniel Hernandez Morillo’s style and the theme of the painting appealed to his sense of aesthetics. Although Neal had studied all the greats, he had a definite leaning for French Impressionism and he wasn’t nearly as appreciative of abstract styles - although he could likely copy anything he set his mind to. This painting, depicting two girls, arms entwined, looking over at a majestic lion, was reminiscent of the impressionist style, and he learned that Morillo had studied in France and Spain.

Neal took a deep breath before taking the plunge and he lifted his paintbrush, intent on doing what he did best.

WCWCWC

‘How was he when he got home?’ Elizabeth asked as the two women settled in front of identical Cobb salads.

Sara picked up her fork and began stabbing her salad mindlessly as she thought back to Neal as he’d finally fallen asleep in her arms on the couch. She rarely got a glimpse of his vulnerabilities, even now, but the fact that he’d trusted her enough to share his innermost fears was a testament to their continually growing relationship. As much as she loved cocky, impulsive Neal, she was learning to love and appreciate gentle, vulnerable Neal just as much.

‘It hurts... for me to see him like that’ Sara admitted. 

El looked over at her friend, trying to establish eye contact. Whatever had happened between Neal and Sara was obviously very private and intense; she needed to respect their intimacy yet, in her typical Elizabeth Burke fashion, she was curious to know what had happened.

‘This whole thing is so unfair’ she said. ‘Peter’s still blaming himself. He hasn’t decided whether we’re going to the dinner or not.’

‘No!’ Sara said, without hesitation. ‘Neal wouldn’t want Peter to miss this... it wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the team.’

‘Well, that’s a decision Peter has to make for himself’ El answered as she took a bite of her salad.

‘Look, Neal’s a big boy and he understands that this is not Peter’s doing. You should really encourage him to go’ said Sara.

Elizabeth shrugged. This was a no-win situation but even as she realized that, an idea was beginning to form in her overactive mind.

WCWCWC

‘Neal! Neal!’ he heard from far away. 

He’d been having a wonderful dream although it evaporated instantly the moment the unwelcome voice interrupted his blissful slumber. He cocked an eye open, seeing Sara looming over him.

‘We slept through the alarm’ she said as she sat on the edge of the bed, trying to get her bearings.

Neal turned over towards her and resolutely closing his eyes again, he reached out to pull her back onto the bed.

‘Mmpph’ he moaned, unimpressed.

‘Neal! I’m serious. It’s past seven thirty’ she said, slipping out of his grasp and standing by the bed.

He was normally the early riser of the pair and she counted on him to nudge her awake if she slept through the alarm. But the last two nights had been late ones and she realized that it was all catching up to him.

‘What time did you finally make it to bed?’ she asked as she stood and stretched, feeling the familiar flutter in her tummy and smiling in response.

‘About five...thirty’ he mumbled, still not moving. 

She let out a long suffering sigh. ‘You’re going to kill yourself if you keep going at this pace’ she said sounding like his mom rather than his girlfriend.

‘It’ll all be over tomorrow’ he muttered as he turned in the bed, trying to intercept her as she walked past him. This time, he was successful and she tumbled down on top of him as he smiled, eyes still firmly closed, thoroughly pleased with himself. 

‘Neal!’ she admonished through irrepressible giggles. Talk about giving mixed messages.

Neal was notorious for wanting to cuddle in the morning and she feigned fighting him off for a moment, giving in as he kissed her languorously, finally opening his eyes to see her reaction.

‘Not going to happen, Caffrey’ she said as she poked him in the ribs, taking him by surprise – just long enough to escape his clutches.

‘Get up!’ she screamed, laughing as she made a run for the bathroom.

‘Awwww’ she heard as she ran away.

WCWCWC

Marnie and Nick sat in a quiet corner of the staff cafeteria at the MoMA chatting. It was Friday morning and she’d confided in him that she and her brother would be switching out the paintings later that night in anticipation of the Morillo being consigned to its new home on the museum wall. Neal had been working long hours to produce the best painting possible and he liked to think it would pass muster even with someone who was familiar with the artist’s works. He was exhausted but pleased with himself and he looked forward to Marnie fawning over the finished product when she finally laid eyes on it.

‘So, is it done?’ she asked as she furtively looked around the room.

She’d been all business ever since Neal had told her about having a boyfriend and the ex-con was relieved he didn’t have to keep fighting off her advances; he could finally concentrate on the job he’d been hired to do. 

‘I just need to finish aging it and it’s ready to go’ Neal said as he took a sip of coffee.

‘So how do you do that?’ she asked as Neal raised an eyebrow and gave her crooked smile.

‘Now if I tell you that, you wouldn’t need my services anymore’ he replied.

‘I need to see it before tonight’ she said, changing gears.

Neal pulled out his phone and brought up a photograph he’d taken of the finished work, watching as Marnie studied it, appropriately pleased.

‘I can bring it by your place’ Neal offered. The last thing he wanted was for Marnie James to be snooping around his apartment.’

‘Bring it by at around 8:00’ she instructed as Neal nodded.

She glanced into his smiling eyes, noting the devilish grin on his face. Man, the guy was gorgeous and as far as she was concerned, it was a damn shame he played for the other team.

‘You sure you don’t swing both ways, huh?’ she asked in a last ditch effort at enticing him. She knew that after they pulled the switch later that night, she’d be high on endorphins and hot sex was always the best way to celebrate a successful heist.

‘Sorry’ Neal said with a wink.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

‘I think we’re being watched’ Scott James said as he sat with his sister in her apartment.

It was 7:30 on Friday night and the siblings were finishing up their meal, awaiting the delivery of the forged Morrillo that was set to net them another nifty sum of money. They had successfully done this four times before and Marnie was beginning to feel invincible. They’d gotten money up front for the Rivera and they had a fence ready to take on this new acquisition as well – like taking candy from a baby.

‘I think you’re being paranoid’ she answered as she removed the dishes from the table.

‘Look, what do we _really_ know about this Halden guy?’ he asked nervously.

‘What are you talking about? The guy’s a master forger; did time for forging a Manet in Europe. He’s good, I checked him out’ Marnie said.

‘I don’t know. Don’t you think it’s awfully convenient that he showed up to work at the museum just when we’re in middle of this job. And I swear, I saw the same guy lurking outside the Marvel again this afternoon. What if they’re on to us?’ Scott asked.

As the younger sibling, he deferred to his big sister in these things; after all, she’d been the mastermind behind this little con of theirs. When they’d heard that the museum was looking for staff to help prepare the Mayan exhibit, it had seemed like a great way to get in on the ground floor and check out any opportunities to make some extra cash. He was used to skimming profits off the top at the Marvel where he worked but that was small potatoes compared to the works being prepped for this exhibit. 

Having staff access to the museum gave them an unprecedented way in and it had taken barely a week for Marnie to start sussing out the weaknesses of the place. Incredible as it was that a big place like the MoMA would have such weak spots, they were definitely there if you had access.

‘Look, you’re just getting cold feet like you did the four other times. We’re fine’ she said dismissively. ‘This guy’s good and maybe he’ll do a couple of others for us before this is all over.’

Scott glanced around nervously; he was always the more cautious of the two although Marnie’s more forceful style had certainly paid off in spades. She was definitely more daring but she wasn’t stupid and she began to think about her brother’s comments.

‘Look, if you’re really nervous, we’ll bring him along with us on the job – keep him close by’ she said.

There was no harm in keeping gorgeous Nick Halden in her sights during the switch, just in case. If it all went off without a hitch, they would know he was on the up and up; otherwise, he’d be caught with his hand in the cookie jar, right alongside them.

WCWCWC

The White Collar offices were buzzing when Neal entered after his shift at the museum. He’d swung by the apartment to pick up the forged painting which Mozzie had done a great job aging and he’d spent a good ten minutes admiring his own handiwork before heading out. 

‘You know Neal, this could have been _our_ con’ Mozzie had complained. ‘You could be netting ten times what you’re going to make with this copy.’

‘All right, Moz’ Neal had said, bringing the man back down to earth. ’First of all, I’m not making _any_ money off this, it’s an FBI sting, or did you forget?’

‘That’s just the point, Neal’ Mozzie lamented, as always, frustrated that Neal’s amazing talents couldn’t be used to supplement their income.

Neal had given him _the_ look and Mozzie had relented but it was always the same old story; old habits died hard.

Now, Neal sat with Peter in the conference room, finishing up some bad Chinese food they’d ordered in as the crew began to dissipate, getting ready for the op which was just a few hours away.

‘This is incredible work’ Peter said as he eyed his CI’s handiwork.

Although it wasn’t necessarily the type of approval he wanted from Peter, it was nice to have the federal agent recognize his uncanny talent and Neal smiled smugly as his partner took in the forgery.

‘So, you’re in and out of her apartment in what - ten minutes?’ Peter asked.

‘Yeah, they’re expecting me at 8:00; I’ll meet you in the van when I’m done.'

‘So, tell me, how does she deactivate the alarm?’ Peter asked, curious.

If he could give the museum some insight into any weak spots they might have, it would help prevent any future breaches of their security – and make the unit look good in the process.

‘Easy’ Neal said as he rocked back in his chair. ‘She’s let back into the area by the guard a few minutes after we close for the day – says she forgot her phone or something – and she deactivates the alarm on her way back out. The staff entrance is on a separate system which isn’t monitored by the museum.’

‘Incredible. You’d think a place like that would monitor their staff entrance’ Peter commented.

‘They do, just not with the same vigilance. If she used her access card to get back in, they’d have a record of her coming in and out. This way, the alarm is never on in the first place’ Neal explained.

‘And you’re sure she’s not on to you?’ Peter asked for the third time.

‘Peter, that’s just insulting’ Neal answered in his cocky way.

‘All right, well be careful. Sometimes, the quiet ones carry big guns.’

Neal gave his partner an eye roll – he had this.

‘Peter, you know... the dinner tomorrow night’ Neal added as an afterthought.

‘Yeah’ Peter answered, not really wanting to discuss the whole situation.

‘Sara said you were considering not going.’

Peter looked slightly uncomfortable. He hadn’t meant for that to get to Neal’s ears. Damn El and her friendship with Sara. He nodded.

‘Look, I appreciate the gesture but it’s not going to change anything. Please go, Peter. For Jones, for Diana and for the rest of the team. I get it, this is a big deal and believe me, I’d love to be along for the ride but don’t punish everybody else because of what those dicks in DC have decided’ Neal said.

Peter looked at his CI and gave him a weak smile.

‘You know Caffrey, every time I think I’ve got you figured out...’ he began, letting his voice trail.

Neal just shrugged and got to his feet. He had a job to finish.

WCWCWC

Sara Ellis knocked on the door to the Burke house and heard Elizabeth calling to her in the distance.

‘Come on in’ she heard from the back of the house.

Sara stepped in out of the cold November evening. It was becoming commonplace for the two women to sit around and wait together when the guys were out on a job – especially a take-down. Although Sara had been around Neal for a long time, now that they were living together, she was more aware of his comings and goings and suddenly, she understood how Elizabeth felt when she said goodbye to her husband before he left her to go catch some bad guys.

‘Hey, I come bearing gifts’ she said as she took off her coat and threw it on a chair in the dining room.

El was busy making some concoction and she looked up at Sara, her arms full of packages.

‘I got the Thai food’ she said as she put down a bag that looked like it contained enough food to feed an army. ‘And... Neal made us an almond torte’ she added licking her lips. ‘Wait until you taste this.’

‘And I have made us some alcohol-free mojitos’ El said as she handed Sara a glass.

‘Just what I need’ Sara exclaimed as she took a seat across the island from Elizabeth.

She looked radiant, wearing a royal blue maternity dress – another gift from Neal – and her smile was bright and intense. El hadn’t seen her looking this good in months.

‘You look amazing!’ Elizabeth said as she sipped the minty drink in her hand.

‘Well, I finally feel human again’ Sara admitted.

After almost four months of morning sickness, recuperating from a broken arm and just plain feeling run down, she’d been feeling amazing lately, energetic and happy. Elizabeth smiled at her; she envied Sara’s situation at the moment. Having a baby had always been on hers and Peter’s radar but had never actually materialized. Although she was happy for her friend, she couldn’t help wishing she could be in her shoes, preparing for the birth of a baby. The flip side, of course, was that she and Peter were going to be godparents to this wonderful baby.

‘Oh, oh, feel this!’ Sara said as she put down her drink and walked over to stand next to Elizabeth.

‘You’re kidding! I didn’t know the baby was kicking’ El said as she lay her hand on Sara’s baby bump.

‘It just started last week. At first, I thought it was just my stomach rumbling but Dr. Cooper says it can start anytime now – I guess, he – or she…’ Sara added, ‘…is one busy little person’

‘So when’s your ultrasound?’

‘Two more weeks’ Sara said with a smile. ‘We should find out the sex of the baby and maybe I’ll finally manage to get Neal to stop calling it ‘Boo-boo’.’

‘Oooh! Yeah, I heard him say that the other day. You really need to get him to stop’ El said, laughing.

‘You know, Sara. I’ve never seen Neal this happy.'

Sara nodded. ‘I have to admit, as much as I was worried about him stepping up to the plate... he’s really been amazing these last few months.

‘Oh’ said El, remembering what she wanted to tell her friend. ‘I have an idea and I want to run it by you’ she said mysteriously as they settled in to chat.

WCWCWC

The James siblings looked at each other as they heard the knock on the door. It was 7:58; Nick was right on time. Marnie opened the door to see the man standing there with a glib look on his face, carrying a large canvas wrapped in craft paper.

‘Right on time, Nick’ said Marnie as she stepped aside to let him in.

‘Halden’ Scott James said as Neal came into view.

‘So, let’s have a peek at this treasure’ Marnie said as she made room on her small dining room table.

Neal set out the painting and carefully slipped it out of its wrapping, careful to not damage the paper.

‘Wow!’ said Marnie as she took in the sight of the canvas. ‘You and I could really go places with your talent and my brains!’

Neal looked at her and smiled. If you only knew lady, he thought, I’m the complete package and I sure as hell wouldn’t need the likes of you to ‘ _go places_ ’.

‘Why don’t you sit down and we’ll have a drink before we go’ said Marnie.

‘Oh, sorry I can’t. Peter’s waiting for me back at the apartment. We have dinner reservations in half an hour’ Neal began as he turned to leave.

Suddenly, Scott James was standing between him and the door and the look in the young man’s eyes was anything but reassuring.

‘But I insist’ Marnie said as Neal’s eyes went from the woman to her brother who was looking awfully nervous. ‘As a matter of fact, Scott and I would like you to come along on our little adventure.’

Neal’s smile came down a couple of megawatts. ‘Guys, I didn’t sign up for breaking into a museum’ he said.

‘But we insist’ Scott said as he leaned forward, exposing the gun that was tucked into the back of his pants.

Neal continued to smile, undaunted. 

‘All right’ he said with a sigh. ‘But I’ll have to give Peter a call or he might come looking for me.’

‘Be my guest’ Marnie said with a devious smile.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

‘Neal, what’s wrong?’ Peter asked as he heard his CI’s voice on the other end of the phone.

‘Nothing. I just have to work late, that’s all’ Neal expertly lied as his gaze went from Marnie to Scott James - who were both eyeing him suspiciously.

‘No, baby, I’m _not_ going to make it back in time for dinner’ Neal said, waiting a second or two before continuing. ‘I know it’s our anniversary Peter but I can’t turn down the extra time, we need the money. Look, I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get home, okay?’ he added, his voice flirty and a little quieter.

‘And if you’re good...’ he continued. ‘I’ll take you to Scaramouche this weekend.’

‘Love you’ he said before hanging up.

‘Good’ said Marnie, satisfied as to Neal’s little performance. ‘Now, we can walk you through the plan.’

Neal took a deep breath. Now he was regretting not letting the Bureau fit him with a communication device before he left the office. But both he and Peter felt the situation didn’t warrant it; after all, he was just dropping off the painting on the way to the stakeout, not going undercover. There had been no reason to suspect that either one of the James siblings was potentially dangerous. Now, he had no choice but to play along and remember to duck if things got ugly. At least, Peter knew what was going on and he’d have his back – or at least Neal hoped he would.

Blueprints of the backrooms of the MoMA had suddenly appeared on the table and Marnie proceeded to show him the plan – in and out, no fuss, no muss. If it hadn’t been for Roseanne Lebeau’s keen eye, they might have continued to get away with it; after all, they’d slipped in and out of the museum after hours on four previous occasions without getting caught, which was no small feat. The duo had obviously done their homework and Neal couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of excitement as he was brought into their inner circle.

Truth be told, Marnie was an attractive woman, full of life and adventure and something about her reminded him of Alex, fearless and confident, even in the face of adversity. In another time, he might have brought her in on a couple of jobs – although his preference had always been to work alone. He saw the shadow of a kindred spirit in her and he couldn’t deny that any talk of a potential heist still got his blood pumping after all this time. 

Neal shook the crazy notion away; he thought of Sara back home, waiting for him and he reminded himself that he was right where he wanted to be and that he had something to prove to his unborn baby and to himself. The fleeting excitement he’d just experienced didn’t compare to that moment a few days before when Sara had placed his hand on her stomach, urging him to be quiet. He smiled despite himself and forced his eyes back to the plans laid out on the table. 

‘Look, this is our fifth time and we haven’t gotten caught yet. I’m telling you Nick, this is easy money’ she said as she produced an envelope ultimately destined for him.

Neal made a show of glancing at the stack of bills inside before she pulled them away and stuffed them back into her jacket pocket. Money was good for what it could buy but for Neal, it had _never_ been about the money – he’d lived the life for years because of the thrill of it and the excitement he felt when he managed to outsmart someone as clever as Peter Burke.

‘So, relax, enjoy your drink’ she said as she handed him a glass of amber liquid. ’By the time the night is over, we’ll have the genuine article in our hot little hands and you’ll be several grand richer.’

WCWCWC

Peter stared down at the phone, replaying the conversation he’d just had with his CI. Neal was obviously trying to tell him something with his reference to the high end restaurant. Neither one of them had ever dined there as far as he knew, nor could they afford it (although in Neal’s case, that was debatable). The only time they had ever been at the Scaramouche was during the takedown of the Torrington case. Peter recalled how it had gotten very ugly very fast and that guns had appeared out of nowhere, Neal barely making it out alive. Was Neal trying to tell Peter that there were guns involved? At first glance, this amateurish duo didn’t seem to have the chutzpah to carry out an armed theft but, hey, he had to admit that Scott James was a twitchy fellow and twitchy fellows and guns were a lethal combination.

‘Jones, Diana, get up here’ he called from the balustrade above the bull pen.

The agents moved quickly, sensing the urgency in Peter’s voice and within minutes, the threesome was sitting in the conference room as Peter filled them in on the latest wrinkle.

‘We’ve got a problem’ he said. ‘For some reason, they’ve decided to keep Neal with them while they pull the job.’

‘Do you think they made him?’ Jones asked.

‘Either that, or we’ve drawn their suspicion with our surveillance. Either way, Neal is flying solo and we don’t have ears on him so I want everybody to be extra careful out there’ he said.

‘Do you think they’re going to throw him under the bus?’ Diana asked.

‘Well, they obviously want him implicated if they get caught. I just don’t want this thing going sideways’ Peter warned.

‘Look, what do you two remember about the takedown on the Torrington case?’ Peter asked, seeing if he was interpreting Neal’s coded message properly.

‘Guns!’ they both said in unison.

‘That’s what I thought. Neal referred to it when he called. I think he’s trying to tell me that Marnie James or her brother is armed’ Peter said as he looked from Jones to Diana.

‘Go brief your teams and I’ll join you in the van in a minute’ Peter said as he ran his hands through his hair.

What had started out as a simple takedown had now taken an unexpected turn and his job was to make certain Neal came out of this in one piece.

WCWCWC

‘So, what do you think?’ asked El as she stuffed one last bite of pad thai in her mouth.

‘I don’t know El…It’s a lovely idea but... I’m just not sure how Neal would feel about it’ Sara answered, pushing her chair back from the table.

‘This would give him a chance to celebrate with the rest of the team and Peter could do a little presentation...’ Elizabeth began, her eyes alight with excitement.

Sara looked at her friend thoughtfully. Elizabeth’s idea of throwing a party in Neal’s honour so he could have his own award presentation was sweet and was most certainly motivated by her concern for him but Sara wasn’t sure how her boyfriend would react to that kind of attention. Sure, Neal loved having all eyes on him when he strutted into a room and he enjoyed watching people stop and stare whenever he walked down the street with that familiar swagger of his – but this was different, he wouldn’t be in control and Sara knew that might make him uneasy.

‘Maybe if we had a small dinner for him here...but it would have to be _really_ low-key’ Sara warned as she slowly began to warm to the idea. ‘I really don’t think Neal wants to make a big fuss over this.’

She knew Neal pretty well and she was getting to know him more and more with each passing day as they shared their daily lives with one another. There was an element of awkwardness and unease for Neal in this whole commendation dinner thing and she didn’t want him becoming embarrassed by having too much attention drawn to it. 

‘Okay, we could keep it small’ El agreed, sounding a little disappointed. ‘Just the immediate team - ’

‘... and by ‘immediate team’, you mean?’ Sara interrupted, uneasy.

‘Just us and Diana and Jones... and maybe we could invite June? And what about Mozzie?’ Elizabeth asked.

In her eagerness to do something nice for Neal, Sara feared Elizabeth might go overboard – after all, she had an undisputed talent for planning big parties and she didn’t want any of this to end up being to Neal’s detriment.

‘And I get to have a say?’ Sara asked. She wasn’t about to have such an evening end with Neal feeling worse about things than before he got there.

El smiled and sighed, realizing that she might be getting a little carried away.‘... and you can definitely have the final word.’

Sara grinned, satisfied.‘All right then, I’m in.’

WCWCWC

By nine thirty, Marnie James started to make noises about getting ready to leave the apartment.They’d had a couple of drinks and Neal was feeling a little more relaxed although he couldn’t help butwonder how the evening was going to play out. Marnie was looking keyed up and energized with just a touch of trepidation and Neal instantly recognized the look of exhilaration on her face. After all, he’d felt that way every single time he’d pulled a heist or a con in his long illustrious career. The high you felt led to a false sense of infallibility and it was a very dangerous feeling – it made you do things you wouldn’t normally do and take chances you wouldn’t normally take. 

Neal continued playing his role as the talented forger who was being reluctantly dragged along on the heist and the siblings had no reason to think that he was anything but that. He hoped Peter had picked up on his reference to the takedown at the Scaramouche. Neither one of them had suspected the James’ duo of being anything more than small time opportunists but the fact that Scott James was carrying a gun brought the whole operation up a notch. Having a gun in your hands and suddenly feeling trapped was a deadly combination and during takedowns, things happened fast and when guns were involved, things could quickly turn deadly. His thoughts briefly returned to Sara as her recalled how she’d warned him to be extra careful; of course, he’d poo-pooed her concern at the time and now, he was looking forward to having this little caper behind them so he could go home to her.

‘Time to go’ Marnie announced.

She was volatile but Neal’s unease was focussed on Scott; he was a dark, brooding sort of guy who didn’t take well to being challenged – and to top it off, he was armed. Neal would have to keep a close eye on him and make sure he didn’t find himself facing down the barrel of a gun by the time Peter and the team finally made their move.

WCWCWC

Peter sat with five other agents in the van, waiting for the show to begin. They were about a block away from the museum, in the opposite direction from which the thieves would likely be coming. He had a couple of cars parked closer to the museum; sadly, that was the only communication they would have with what was likely happening inside the museum. Peter mentally kicked himself again for not having insisted that Neal wear a listening device; without his tracker, they didn’t even know where Neal was and he worried that his CI might have been found out and was being dragged at gunpoint.

‘Peter, we have a visual’ he heard crackling in his headphones as he exchanged looks with Diana.

‘Car stopped a few feet from the back entrance of the museum. People are getting out’ Jones continued.

‘How many?’ Peter asked.

‘Caffrey and a man and a woman’ Jones responded.

‘Is Caffrey being led at gunpoint?’ Peter asked, feeling his stomach churn. Damn Chinese food!

‘No, he’s walking along with them towards the staff entrance of the museum.’

Peter let out a sigh of relief. If Neal was walking along without a gun pointed at him, it likely meant his cover hadn’t been blown and although they might be suspicious of him, he was not perceived as an imminent threat to the theft.

‘All right, keep an eye on them. We’re moving in’ Peter said as he signalled everyone to get going.

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

The street lights were dim, the moon unaccounted for on this cloudy November evening and the street leading to the staff entrance of the MoMA was eerily silent on this Friday night. Nevertheless, Neal immediately spotted the unmarked Bureau car parked a few feet away and glanced briefly at it, wondering which members of Peter’s team were lurking behind the tinted glass. He noticed that Marnie was uncharacteristically quiet, focussed and ‘in the zone’; she didn’t seem to be paying any mind to her surroundings. Neal could certainly relate; in the last few moments before a heist, his senses were always heightened, every pore of his skin alive and pulsating as he prepared to carry out some skilfully designed strategy he’d worked on ardently for God knows how long. He glanced over at Scott who was clearly twitchy but not in that exhilarating way he surmised Marnie was feeling just in a tense _‘let’s get this damn thing over’_ kind of way Neal could never relate to. Carrying out a heist was like performing an intricate piece of music or a beautiful and complex ballet; so many components coming together in perfect synch and if you got it just right, the feeling of exhilaration was unfathomable and its allure hard to resist. 

They moved at a good clip, Neal carrying the forged painting in his hands and within seconds, they were standing by the back door of the museum. Neal and Marnie exchanged knowing looks. 

‘You want to do the honours?’ she asked giving him a head nod towards the door.

Neal gave her a naughty ‘Nick Halden’ smile and reached out for the door handle, pulling it open without effort to the sounds of silence.

WCWCWC

‘They just stepped inside, Peter’ Jones voice said over the walkie-talkie.

‘We’re on our way’ Peter responded as the van took off to join the rest of the crew.

Their best bet was to wait until the thieves stepped outside with the painting, catching them red-handed, Peter concluded. Going into the museum made things messy and complicated and could put Neal at risk of getting hurt. If he _was_ suspected of being in on the takedown, the siblings could turn on him at any moment and any noise Peter and his team might make going in would resonate in the empty building and give advance warning of their arrival. This way, they could be lying in wait as they came out – no fuss, no muss. 

Or so he hoped.

WCWCWC

Elizabeth and Sara sat in the Burke living room watching the end of some Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan romantic comedy. Whenever the couples got together, the women (and Neal) were forced to compromise on their movie choice, Peter predictably more interested in adventure and action movies.It was a welcome change not to have to argue about what movie they were going to watch and although Sara had never been much of a ‘chick flic’ kinda girl, she’d gladly given in to El’s pick and sat back to enjoy the film as best she could. Having El nearby was better than sitting at home alone worrying about Neal; although the takedown looked like a classic bust, there was no telling what could happen when Neal was involved.

She wasn’t sure exactly when it happened but Sara had begun to get emotionally invested in the convoluted (and most unlikely) movie plot and she sat wiping her eyes as the on screen couple reunited, wondering when the hell she’d turned into this whimpering, sappy girlie-girl. Pregnancy was doing weird things to her body and her mind. Sara had never been much of a cryer – Neal was much more likely to get emotional when he let down his defences – but lately, she’d had very little control over her emotions which was very disconcerting for the usually level-headed young woman. 

She’d begun to cry uncontrollably in the middle of mind-blowing sex the week before, something that Neal had found rather disturbing, to say the least. _‘I’m fine’_ she’d blubbered at a very inopportune moment as Neal had attempted to pull back, uncertain what to do. _‘Don’t stop’_ she’d urged as Neal had suddenly lost his fervour, instantly breaking the mood.

She let out a loud sob and Elizabeth turned towards her on the couch, handing her the box of tissues.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked as she witnessed the very un-Sara Ellis like behaviour.

‘I’m fine’ Sara whimpered very unconvincingly. ‘I just can’t seem to control myself lately.’

‘It’s okay’ El said, touching her hand. ‘It’s hormones; it happens to everyone.’

‘It doesn’t happen to me’ Sara continued, her voice barely recognizable as she continued to sob loudly.

Truth be told, it was endearing to know that someone as headstrong and feisty as Sara could lose it over some predictable Hollywood fabrication. Elizabeth smiled to herself and squeezed Sara’s hand.

WCWCWC

The place was perfectly quiet as the trio made their way down the now familiar hallway towards the preparation room. Neal had been working at the museum for over a week now and he was familiar with the room and its contents. He knew exactly where to find the Morillo since he’d been the last tohandle it that afternoon – just before everyone had ended the work week. He’d been responsible for cleaning it and placing it in the frame provided by the museum as they prepared to move the masterpiece to the exhibition hall the next day. He’d taken his sweet time admiring it — now that he’d become familiar with the painting, he couldn’t help comparing it to ‘Neal Caffrey’ version, secretly praising himself for work well done. It sat exactly where he’d left it and Neal and Marnie walked over to the painting as Scott looked around suspiciously. He’d been inside the room a few times on their previous nocturnal visits but he was curious and he took the time to poke around looking at other treasures they might target in the coming days.

‘Scott, get your head in the game’ Marnie whispered, again asserting herself as the brains behind the operation.

‘Help us get it out of the frame’ she continued as she and Neal began to pry the canvas from its casing.

Knowing the duo was headed back to steal it, Neal had purposefully left it unfastened – no point in risking damage to a beautiful work of art – and Marnie smiled at him in the semi-dark room as she noticed what he’d done.

The two of them made quick work of taking the original out of its frame and Neal got to work placing his version in its stead while Marnie proceeded to wrap the original in the craft paper the forgery had been wrapped in moments before.

‘Hurry up’ Scott barked at them while he continued to survey the place.

‘We should work on getting this one next’ he added as he pointed to a nearby bright blue carving.

‘Good luck finding someone who can forge that in a few days’ Neal said, under his breath as Marnie smiled in response.

It took less than five minutes for the switch to be complete and Neal and Marnie prepared to leave with Scott bringing up the rear, his gun now in his hand, to Neal’s chagrin.

‘The alarm!’ Marnie whispered as she handed the painting to Neal for safe keeping.

She made quick work of entering her code to reactivate the alarm and the trio stepped out into the night, their mission complete. Marnie’s moment of elation was short-lived, however, as she became aware that there was considerably more activity on the street than when they’d entered the building. 

Instantly, the words ‘Hold it!FBI’ rang out into the quiet street as Marnie let out a yelp and dropped the coveted painting, her hands instinctively going up in the air. Scott James turned to look at Neal, noticing a fleeting look of recognition in his eyes and before he could even validate his intuition, he turned towards the CI, his gun firmly in hand and, using the grip of his gun, he proceeded to smash Neal squarely in the face.

‘You son of a bitch!’ he yelled as he administered the pistol whipping.

Neal was totally taken by surprise, and having no time to protect himself, he felt the blunt instrument strike him right under the eye and he struggled to stay upright, failing miserably as he tumbled inelegantly to the pavement.

‘Don’t move!’ Jones yelled at the gun totting thief as he moved in with the five other agents, circling both the culprits.

Marnie stood motionless with her hands up and within seconds, Jones and another of the agents swept in to disarm Scott James just as Diana appeared out of nowhere with a pair of handcuffs. Peter made a move towards Neal who signalled him he was fine and he struggled to get to his feet, his hand stroking his cheek, obviously still in shock. Marnie was cuffed and based on what had just happened, there seemed to be little use in going through the motions of handcuffing Neal and bringing him in along with the siblings. Instead, Peter made his way to where Neal was swaying, his legs unsteady.

‘You okay?’ Peter asked taking Neal’s arm to steady him.

‘Yeah’ he managed to say as a huge welt immediately began to form on his face.

Neal looked down at his hand, surprised to find that he wasn’t bleeding; the attack, however, had been enough to cause an incessant ringing in his ears and his head was swimming as he struggled to stay upright. Peter took his arm and lead him back to one of the waiting cars.

‘Take them back to the Bureau’ he barked at Jones and Diana who were busy putting Marnie and Scott James’ sorry asses in the back of another car.

WCWCWC

Elizabeth looked over at Sara, head back against the couch, lightly snoring – another glimpse into the wonderful world of ‘pregnant Sara Ellis’. The movie had ended over two hours ago, the news was over and so were the late talk shows. El glanced down at Satchmo who was sound asleep at her feet and yawned as she wondered about the best course of action, finally making up her mind and touching Sara’s arm gently.

‘Sara’ she whispered as her friend came to, prying open one eye.

‘Do you want to come up and lay down on the bed in the guest room?’ she asked. ‘You’re going to kill your neck sitting like that.’

Sara sat up, already feeling that predictable kink in her neck and rubbing it absentmindedly.

‘What time is it?’ she asked, groggy.

‘Almost one o’clock’ El admitted, trying to keep the worry out of her voice.

‘They should have been home by now’ Sara said, echoing Elizabeth’s sentiment.

‘You know what it’s like; they... they have to bring them back to the Bureau and question them’ El said, although she wasn’t quite believing the words herself.

‘So? Do you want to come upstairs?’ she repeated.

‘No, I’m good. It can’t be much longer. Right?’ Sara added, needing some reassurance.

As if she’d willed it, the phone began to ring in the quiet Burke house and Elizabeth reached over to grab it on the nearby side table. At last, some news.

‘Peter?’ she said as her eyes met Sara’s.

‘Hi hon’ came the familiar, reassuring voice.

‘Honey, hi. We were starting to worry’ El admitted as much to her husband as to herself.

‘We’re just finishing up here’ Peter said although Elizabeth could tell something was being left unsaid.

‘And...’ she said, prompting him.

‘Well... Neal had a... a little bit of an accident’ he answered cryptically.

‘Okay’ El said not wanting to repeat what she’d just heard lest Sara become upset.

Sara sat up straight, anxious to hear what was going on.

‘It’s nothing serious. He was... pistol whipped’ he finally admitted. ‘But, really, he’s going to be fine’ he hastened to add although this latest bit of information was not having the desired effect.

‘We’re going to have him checked out before we head back’ he added, matter of factly.

‘What is it?’ Sara finally asked, unable to hold back any longer.

Elizabeth covered the mouthpiece and relayed the information Peter had just shared, downplaying the pistol whipping and playing up the fact that Neal was going to be fine.

‘I want to go. What hospital are they at?’ Sara said standing up a little unsteadily.

‘Honey, we’ll meet you at the hospital. Where are you taking him?’ Elizabeth Burke said, the issue obviously not up for discussion.

‘I really don’t think that’s necessary, El’ Peter was saying, seemingly forgetting who he was talking to.

‘Which hospital?’ she repeated, her voice impatient.

‘Lenox Hill’ Peter said before hanging up.

He looked up at Neal who stood beside him, his face barely recognizable yet still able to give his partner a dirty look.

‘I tried’ Peter said.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

‘Seriously Peter? You had to use the words ‘pistol whipped’?’ Neal said for the third time as they sat side by side in the emergency room of Lenox Hill Hospital in Manhattan.

Peter looked sideways at his CI, realizing his face was now totally distended and his eye practically swollen shut. ‘It’s.... years of... FBI work’ he answered meekly trying to keep Neal focussed.

Neal attempted an eye roll which was much too painful and he had to settle for showing his annoyance by giving Peter a definitive head shake and an audible tsk.

‘Marnie looked awfully disappointed when she found out you were working for us’ Peter said, more than happy to change the subject. ‘I think she recognized a kindred spirit.’

Neal shrugged. Right now, all he wanted was some pain relief; his head was still pounding relentlessly and the ringing in his ears had yet to subside. As a matter of fact, he was having trouble recalling what exactly had happened and he kept replaying the events leading up to the break-in in his muddled mind, trying to remember what had brought him here to the emergency room in the first place.

‘But I think most of all, she was relieved to find out we weren’t really a couple’ Peter added, trying to make light of the situation.

It wasn’t like Neal not to have a witty comeback and Peter glanced over at him, noticing his partner was beginning to droop and seemed to be having trouble keeping his eyes open.

‘Neal’ Peter said as he shook his arm lightly. ‘Stay with me buddy.’

‘What happened, Peter?’ Neal responded as the confusion returned unbidden in his jumbled mind.

Peter had seen enough concussions in his lifetime to recognize the symptoms and he put a reassuring arm around Neal’s shoulders to comfort him.

Suddenly, the door to the busy emergency room opened with a swish and the women appeared, making their way to where the boys sat. El took the seat next to Peter and Sara practically tripped over her feet to make it to the other side next to Neal as she took in the sight of his mangled face, unlike anything she’d ever seen before. She’d worked hard on the car ride over to persuade herself to stay calm and try not to overreact; she knew how much Neal hated being doted on but the moment she saw him, tears began to run down her face and she gently put her hand on the back of his head, caressing his hair, not daring to touch his face. He looked like he’d gone three rounds with George Foreman, coming out the clear loser. He lifted his face to look at her, forcing a smile.

‘Oh my God’ she uttered as she bit her lip.

‘I’m fine’ Neal responded most unconvincingly as he looked at his girlfriend’s worried face.

This is exactly what he’d been trying to avoid; Sara wasn’t normally what you’d call ‘maternal’but lately, with those pregnancy hormones coursing through her body, she’d become an emotional time bomb and almost anything could set her off. She continued staring at Neal, taking in the swollen welt on his cheek right under his left eye which was now extending all the way up to his eye lid, forcing his eye shut. The skin was distended but hadn’t broken and she wondered in passing what was more dangerous, a cut or a monstrously swollen face. Neal looked at her with a mixture of reassurance and ‘little boy lost’ – a most unnerving combination she wasn’t sure what to make of.

‘I’m pretty sure he has a concussion’ Peter said in order to explain the uncommunicative way Neal was staring at her.

Sara let her arm reach all the way around him and Neal finally gave in and dropped his head on her shoulder, feeling the comforting warmth of her body. Peter and El looked on, exchanging worried looks.It wasn’t often they’d seen the great Neal Caffrey melt in someone’s touch and Peter guessed it was a combination of being concussed and the earnest look Sara had just given him - which would make just about anybody melt.

‘Well, what’s taking so long?’ Sara asked as she held Neal against her and glanced around the busy waiting room.

‘We’ve only been here fifteen minutes’ answered Peter as Elizabeth looked on. ‘They said it wouldn’t be very long.’

_‘Not very long’_ turned into twenty more minutes and Sara and Peter took turns jostling Neal so he wouldn’t fall asleep before he could be properly examined and assessed by the ER doctor. After a hastily arranged CT scan and a thorough examination, the doctor declared Neal well enough to go home and discharged him with instructions on how to care for his injury along with some pain medication and a list of things to look for as he recovered from his concussion.

The couples parted ways and began their trek home separately, Sara reassuring Peter that she was on watch and would take good care of Neal. After years of being the only one answerable for Neal’s welfare, it was strange for Peter to realize that he now shared that dubious honour with Sara Ellis and he watched with trepidation as he and Elizabeth put the two of them into a cab before heading back to Brooklyn.

Upon arrival on Riverside Drive, Sara struggled with getting Neal out of the cab and up the steps to the house. She wondered what she’d been thinking when she’d told Peter they would be fine on their own. Neal was practically dead weight, letting Sara pull him along while continuing to insist he was just fine. The commotion brought June out from the back of the house, dazed and confused from a deep sleep.

‘What happened?’ she asked as she saw the state of Neal, barely recognizable but with a dazed smile on his face.

‘Hi June’ he said, his words slurred.

‘He was injured in a takedown, someone decided to take the butt of their gun and slam it in his face’ Sara said in her no-nonsense way.

‘I’m fiiine’ Neal stated emphatically, his arm slung loosely over Sara’s shoulder.

June glanced at Sara as the young woman gave her a stern head shake and eye roll; he was definitely not ‘fine’. 

‘Let me give you a hand’ June said as she moved to stand on the other side of Neal.

His legs were cooperative but very slow and uncoordinated and it took a good ten minutes to get him safely all the way up to the third floor apartment. Neal kept stopping and gazing fondly at one or the other of the women on either side of him, commenting on how much he loved them and appreciated their help.

‘June, you’re the best’ he said as he stared lovingly into her eyes only to stop three steps later and turn to Sara with an uncharacteristic ‘Sweetheart, I love you’ before continuing on for a few more steps only to stop again with a few additional choice terms of endearment. 

It was all very sweet if it hadn’t been so treacherous for a seventy-five-year-old woman and a pregnant lady to be dragging a drug-relaxed 175 pound man up three flights of stairs. They finally arrived at the top of the landing and Sara thanked June for her help, wishing her sweet dreams as she shuffled Neal into the apartment. He’d begun to hum softly – again, real cute if he would just cooperate and let her put him to bed.

Sara finally got him over to the bed and began undressing him as Neal looked up lovingly at her.

‘You’re gonna be a _great_ mom’ he said languidly as he ran his hand lovingly over her cheek.

Sara smiled despite the nagging worry and she wondered not for the first time how Neal seemingly always managed to get himself into these situations.

‘Oh, Neal!’ she said – what else could she say.

‘Our little baby is coming soon’ Neal said his voice melodic, almost like a song.

‘Yes, he is’ Sara said as she smiled back at her loopy boyfriend and proceeded to take off his shoes and socks.

‘Or _sheee_ ’ he slurred as he struggled to sit up so Sara could remove his shirt ‘I think it’s a _girl_ ’ he added, his eyes heavy lidded.

He was starting to fade and Sara just wanted to get him settled in the bed before he turned into total mush.

‘Oh yeah?’ she answered as she continued removing his clothes.

‘Yeah’ Neal declared. ‘A beautiful little girl... she’ll look just like _you_ ’ he said, attempting to sit up to kiss Sara.

‘All right, Romeo. Time to take the other half of that medication and say goodnight’ she said as she attempted to stand from the edge of the bed. Neal held her arm, forcing her to stay; seemingly he wasn’t done cooing just yet.

‘Do you have _any_ idea just how much I love you Sara Ellis?’ he asked rhetorically, a crooked smile on his mangled face.

‘I love you too, sweetie’ she said warmly as she ran her hand through his hair and leaned in to kiss his forehead.

The small gesture seemed to calm him and by the time she returned with a glass of water and his second pill, she had to rouse him briefly before he fell back to sleep, seemingly no worse for wear.She sat for a very long time, staring at him, as always trying to figure out the enigma that was Neal Caffrey: the strong, sexy, confident man who melted into this pile of pure emotional gobbledygook at the drop of a hat. She sighed deeply; this was _exactly_ why she loved him, for all those inexplicable contradictions and so much more.

After a long while, she lay down beside him and tried to get some shut-eye. He might need her during the night and she needed her rest too it she was going to be any good to him. Her mind wandered to the following day, Saturday. It was the day of the commendation dinner and she wondered if Neal had truly made peace with that whole situation. She’d been toying with the idea of preparing a special dinner for him to try to keep his mind off things. She’d even enlisted help from some of June’s staff who’d gone out to purchase everything she’d need to prepare his famous linguine with clam sauce. She’d see how things were in the morning before deciding whether or not to go ahead with the plan. 

She tried to imagine Neal at the commendation dinner – a bona fide FBI agent just like Peter Burke but she instantly pushed away the thought. Neal had his _own_ path to follow and with any luck, she would be along for the ride now that their fates were intertwined by the impending arrival of their son or daughter, linking their futures... somehow. She’d never given much thought to life after the baby’s arrival but now she wondered what the future held for her and Neal. They’d committed to raising this baby together but there’d never been any talk of a long term commitment for them as a couple and now she was having trouble imagining any kind of future without Neal by her side. She’d never dared to dream about a life shared with someone else, least of all someone like Neal Caffrey and yet... now, it was impossible to imagine the future without him.

Sara slept fitfully, aware of every movement Neal made, watching for any danger signs from his concussion. She dreamt of a shared life in suburbia with two great kids and a big golden dog and with Neal doing un-Caffrey-like things like gardening and decorating their house with Christmas lights. The strangest part of the dream was the feeling of wellbeing that enveloped her in such an unfamiliar setting – so far removed from her busy work life in New York, the only future she’d ever dared to envision.

She woke with a start on Saturday morning noting that Neal was still sleeping peacefully; despite his barely recognizable face, he seemed calm and serene and she wondered what kind of dreams _he_ might be having.

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

Sara came out of the bathroom, still dripping wet from her shower and she made her way back to the main room, fully expecting to find Neal still snoozing peacefully; after the night he’d had, he deserved a break. Instead, she found him sitting at the kitchen table staring into his cup of coffee, still looking dreadfully rough around the edges. The inflammation had gone down quite a bit and his eye was no longer swollen shut but a dark bruise was beginning to form down the whole side of his face, a very jarring sight indeed.

‘Neal!’ Sara exclaimed as she spotted him sitting there. ‘What are you doing up?’ 

He glanced up at her, forcing his eye open all the way, trying to look like it was business as usual.

‘I want to go in for the debrief at noon’ he mumbled, sounding rough.

‘What are you talking about? You can’t go into the office like this!’ she said as she made her way over, standing next to him and gently touching his hair.

‘Sara, don’t!’ he said as he shooed her hand away, instantly seeing the hurt in her eyes.

‘Look, I’m fine’ he said, realizing he’d been a little too harsh. It wasn’t her fault that he was still in pain and that the damn commendation dinner was going on without him.

He let out a long sigh and grabbed for her arm, gently pulling her onto his lap; he knew she was worried and only wanted what was best for him.

‘I know you’re just looking out for me but... I’m fine, really’ Neal lied in the not to charming way he had of downplaying things he didn’t want to discuss.

He watched as Sara’s face darkened and for a moment, he was afraid she was going to start crying. That was the last thing he needed so he forced himself to smile up at her as she sat there, staring at him with her face twisted up in worry.

‘It’s worse than it looks’ he added; the more he lied, the easier it got.

She brought her hand back up to touch the right side of his face – the unmangled one – and this time, as her hand lingered, Neal could feel his mask slipping away as he let down his guard, suddenly feeling the need to come clean. She had an uncanny way of getting him to open up and, damn it, he couldn’t resist sharing what was on his mind when she looked at him _that_ way.

‘All right, I admit it. It hurts like hell’ he said with a quirky smile, making her smile in the process.

‘But I want to go in to work like everybody else, I want to see this case through to the end.’

Sara could see there was something else, right under the surface and she waited for him to go on, having learned as of late that waiting patiently was the best way to get anything out of Neal Caffrey.

‘... and tonight’s the commendation dinner... I don’t want anybody to think I’m angry about not going’ he finally admitted.

‘Are you? Angry?’ she asked, pushing just enough to keep him talking.

‘No!’ he answered, a little too quickly. ‘Well, not angry exactly... maybe a little... hurt... disappointed, that’s all.’

‘And you have every right to be’ Sara answered as she continued to stare into his eyes, undaunted by the spectacular bruise staring back at her.

After a moment, she could sense that she wasn’t going to get anything else out of him. She was right; Neal seemed to snap out of his reflective mood and return to action mode.

‘Look, I’ll take a shower... feel human again and I’ll go in and finish the job I started’ he said, staring into her eyes almost as if he was asking permission to do just that.

‘Neal, you’re a grown man. You can do whatever you like; I’m not your mother. But, I _do_ love you’ she said, her voice soft and low. ‘And I’m not going anywhere anytime soon’ she continued, pointing to her belly and eliciting a small grin from Neal. ‘So you’re just going to have to get used to having someone around who cares about what happens to you.’

Neal’s smile grew broader despite the obvious pain the movement elicited and he pulled Sara in for a small kiss.

‘Ditto’ he said with a grin.

WCWCWC

The mood in the White Collar offices on the day following a takedown was always a little unusual; a combination of muted exuberance and all-out relief. The team assembled in the conference room where everyone shared their take on the events of the night before, making sure there was consensus on how things had gone down and Peter proceeded to assign report writing duties to the junior agents. 

Neal sat through the meeting as he always did, contributing to the discussion, making the odd off-the-cuff remark that always got everyone laughing and just generally being his laid-back, arrogant self. Peter could sense that underneath Neal’s veneer was something more; he was obviously still in pain from the whack he’d received to the face and it wasn’t lost on anyone that on the very day of the commendation dinner, the hero of the bust was not going to be recognized. A few of the staff gave Neal a tap on the shoulder as they left with mutterings of ‘Great job, Neal’ and ‘Glad you’re okay, Neal’ and the room emptied out, finally leaving Peter and Neal alone.

‘So... the big dinner tonight?’ Neal couldn’t help but saying.

Perhaps if he made light of it, Peter would stop worrying so much about him not being included.

Peter continued tidying up his papers as he cocked an eye at his CI.

‘What? You _are_ going, right?’ Neal asked.

He’d meant what he’d said the other day; as much as he wished he could be there, he sure as hell didn’t want anybody else to have to suffer because of the Bureau’s stupid decision to exclude him.

‘Not sure’ Peter said.

‘Peter, that’s crazy’ Neal said, standing up to loom over his partner. ‘You _can’t_ do that to the team.’

‘I can do whatever I want’ Peter reminded him.

‘You know what I mean. Everybody’s worked so hard…’ Neal began.

‘Yeah’ Peter interrupted. ‘Everybody including _you!_ ’

Neal scoffed. He really _did_ appreciate Peter taking a stand but, as bad as he felt about being excluded, he would feel a hundred times worse if Peter skipped out, leaving everyone high and dry.

‘... and I appreciate you standing up for me, Peter, I really do. But if you don’t go, it’ll just make things worse. Jones and Diana... they never get to go to these things and Blake... did you see how excited the guy is about getting this award tonight?’

Peter looked at Neal, once again in awe of the ex-con and the big heart. How many times had he judged Neal for being arrogant and overconfident? Underneath it all, was a man who cared about others and whose selfless actions were (most) often dictated by his need to help those he cared about.

Peter let out a long slow breath and stood to face Neal.

‘You really think it’s the right thing to do?’ Peter asked as he began to falter.

‘I do, Peter.’

Neal waited for a second before going on. ‘Please go... for me’ he added as he saw the look in Peter’s eyes; he was finally getting through to him.

He capped the whole plea off with a radiant Caffrey smile although his face hurt like hell when he tried to pull it off.It was indeed the right the thing to do just as it was the right thing to do for Neal to convince him of doing just that.

WCWCWC

‘So, how was Neal today?’ Elizabeth asked as she sat applying makeup in the Burke bedroom.

‘The usual’ Peter responded as he sat on the bed watching her. ‘...acting like nothing ever happened.’

El let out a laugh followed by a curse as she accidentally smeared some mascara on her cheek.

‘Why did he come in to work today, of all days?’ she asked.

Peter shook his head. ‘You know Neal. He wanted to be there for the debrief with everybody else. The swelling’s started to come down thankfully, now it’s just a nasty angry looking bruise.

He took out the index cards from the coat pocket of his tuxedo as he spoke and absent-mindedly glanced at them once again.

‘Honey, you’ve been looking at those all afternoon. You’ll be fine’ she said dismissively as Peter stuffed them back in his pocket without even looking at them.

‘I just want to do this right. It’s a big deal for everybody’ he said as his mind wandered back to Neal who was being unjustly deprived of sharing the limelight with the rest of his hard-working team.

El could see her husband’s pain; Neal, himself, had managed to convince Peter to attend when no one else had and she thought fondly of their friend, realizing it couldn’t have been easy for him to take the high road.

‘Neal’s right you know, this _is_ the right thing to do’ she said as she eyed him in the mirror, watching his tormented face. She turned to look at him, a broad smile on her face, as she tried to break the mood. 

‘Sara gave me the go-ahead for a dinner party to honour Neal’ she said, beaming. There was nothing Elizabeth Burke loved more than planning a party for those she loved.

Peter raised his eyebrow suspiciously.

‘...as long as I keep it small’ she added as she stood to admire herself in the full length mirror.

‘Oh, honey, you look beautiful’ Peter said as he joined her to check if his bowtie was straight.

She looked sadly at his reflection in the mirror. ‘I just wish we were sharing tonight with Neal and Sara’ she said as Peter nodded in agreement.

‘I know’ he said.

He grazed her shoulder, urging her to turn and face him ‘Now, come on. Our cab’ll be here any minute.’

WCWCWC

Neal noticed the wonderful, distinctive aromas of garlic and basil the moment he stepped into the house. He began the long jog up the stairs to his apartment, much more agile than he’d been the night before. It was already 6:30 and Sara would be waiting for him to make a start on dinner – or so he’d assumed. He thought back to the strange conversation he’d just had with Mozzie. The man had asked him to come over to one of his safe houses to discuss something or other and after an hour of mindless chatter, Neal had finally left still wondering what the purpose of his visit had been. 

The smells intensified as he got closer and he began to wonder who had broken into his place; this couldn’t possibly be Sara’s doing, of that he was reasonably sure, considering her disdain of all things domestic. 

He opened the door to his apartment to a most unexpected sight: Sara Ellis standing in front of the stove, stirring something that smelled wickedly delicious and welcoming him home with a huge grin on her face – and not much else. His eyes grew wide at the sight of her. The maternity clothes she’d started to wear were meant for the office, classic, tasteful, fitted yet with some wiggle room for her burgeoning belly, nothing like what she was presently wearing.She stood there, barefoot, in the kitchen, wearing a tight fitting dress in a warm candy apple red that hugged every single curve in her body making her look amazingly hot. Although Neal had been with her every day of her pregnancy, delighting in the changes to her body as her breasts got fuller and her stomach continued to expand, in this moment, with that sexy outfit on, it was as if he was seeing her pregnant for the first time. 

Her body was so different from the one he’d known in the past, none of those angles or sharp edges he’d learned to love over the years -just soft, warm, welcoming curves and his jaw dropped as he continued to stare in amazement. Her breasts, which had never been particularly large, spilled out of the cleavage of the dress and her long, endless legs were on full display in the short little number.

‘Caffrey?’ she said, snapping her fingers to bring him back to reality.

‘Wow!’ he exclaimed as his eyes continued to linger up and down her body in some lewd very un-Caffrey like way.

‘You like it?’ she asked as she turned on herself to help him appreciate the view.

‘Like it? You look...’ he began, at a loss for words.

‘Amazing?’ she said, hopeful that she’d hit a home run.

‘Hot’ he responded breathlessly, as he made his way to stand next to her, lacing his arms around her waist and feeling the amazing fullness of her warm belly against his body.

He was instantly turned on but he kept the kiss he placed on her lips on the virtuous side of predatory and he forced himself to look at what she was concocting on the stove top.

‘If I didn’t know better, I'd swear that’s my world famous clam sauce’ he said, leaning in to take a whiff without removing his arms from her waist.

‘Well, I don’t know if it will be up to your standards but...’ she said as she tried to wriggle out of his firm grasp, something Neal was not conceding in the least.

‘What’s this all about?’ he asked playfully as he returned his gaze on her.

Now that his eye was no longer swollen shut, he had begun to look a little more like himself and he’d already begun to wean himself off the heavy duty meds so he could go in to work and not act like a total fool as he was known to do when he was high on pain medication. Despite the obvious pain, he smiled at her, happy to find this warm, loving woman waiting for him, barefoot and pregnant in his kitchen.

She just smiled knowingly at him, keeping him guessing as to her motives.

‘So I take it, _you_ were that mysterious call Mozzie took just before I left’ he said, finally putting two and two together.

‘I just wanted to surprise you’ she said, looking like the cat who swallowed the canary.

With effort, she finally pulled herself out of Neal’s grasp, eager to get back to preparing dinner. She was a rookie at this and she sure as hell didn’t want to burn anything.

‘Can I help?’ Neal asked, anxious to be of service.

‘You can get yourself a glass of that wonderful Pinot Grigio I picked up for you... and you can sit down and keep leering at me like you’ve been doing since you walked in’ she said, her voice full of mischief.

Neal pulled away and grabbed the unopened bottle and the cork screw, getting to work, just like the lady had asked. Since she’d gotten pregnant, he’d kept wine drinking to a minimum. It seemed like the least he could do when _she_ had to refrain from imbibing and although he enjoyed the occasional glass of wine, supporting Sara was more important than having a drink – any day of the week.

‘You know, I would have been just as happy with mineral water’ he said as he finished opening up the bottle.

‘Are you kidding? Why should you deprive yourself just because I can’t have any’ she said. ‘Believe me, if I could, I’d be indulging too.’

He smiled obligingly and took a look sip of the wonderful vintage.

‘Great choice!’ he said as he placed his glass on the table and returned his idle hands to Sara’s body, making his intentions clear.

‘Neal!’ she admonished. ‘Believe me, I will make it worth your while if you stop pawing me long enough for me to get dinner on the table’ she said languidly which made the whole ripping himself away from her all the more difficult.

He let out an impatient sigh. He knew exactly what she was doing – it was no coincidence that she’d suddenly decided to cook one of his favourite meals on the very night of the Bureau’s commendation dinner. It was a welcome distraction and he thought again of all the new and wonderful things he was discovering about this incredible woman. He returned to the table and settled down in front of his glass of wine as his eyes lingered over her body. All of a sudden, the disappointment of not being at the commendation dinner began to fade as he thought of the wonderful night his beautiful girlfriend had planned for them.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

The ballroom of the Baccarat Hotel was pulsating as people chatted in small groups, the best and the brightest of the Bureau milling around, vying to see and be seen. Hollywood might have the Oscars but the commendation dinner was the epitome of self-indulgence for the FBI crowd and people had flown in from all over for the event. Everyone always looked forward to meeting up with colleagues from around the country on the special night which happened but once a year. 

Of course, the field offices each had their own staff recognition dinners where they recognized all of their staff from the janitor to the ASAC but the commendation dinner was the big leagues and except for the team which was being honoured, it was reserved for the Bureau’s top brass. Diana and Jones looked around, wide-eyed, visibly impressed as they took in the many faces of the bigwigs they had only heard of.

‘Wow! There’s the Assistant Deputy Director!’ Diana said, attempting to sound nonchalant.

Standing around in a gown with a champagne flute in her hand wasn’t an everyday occurrence for the agent and she looked around, somewhat star struck at the who’s who of the Bureau chattering nearby. Peter smiled at his underling; he wasn’t easily impressed by rank and besides as Special Agent, he was included in the festivities every year.

‘Peter!’ a female voice called out as El and Peter stood chatting with Jones and Diana.

‘Kimberly!’ Peter replied as he turned to face the agent who had once been a thorn in his side.

‘You remember everybody, don’t you?’ he asked as he pointed to the assembled members of his team.

‘Sure, hi!’ she said, her voice friendly.

‘And this is my wife, Elizabeth. Honey, this is Agent Kimberly Rice from Kidnapping and Missing Persons’ Peter said.

‘Nice to meet you’ El said, her voice neutral although she remembered all too well what this woman had put Neal through on the Gless case, putting his life at risk so she could crack the case.

‘Congratulations on the award, Burke’ Rice continued as she looked around at all the smiling faces. ‘I just want to say, I think those idiots in Washington are crazy to have excluded Caffrey from coming.’

Peter looked at the woman with a smile. She had a reputation for been cunning and ruthless but during the Gless case, she’d gotten a new appreciation for Neal and the lengths he’d go to in order to get the job done. After the case, he’d noticed how she’d mellowed; since then, he’d worked with her on another case, grateful for her street smarts.

‘Thanks’ Peter responded as they heard a commotion up on the podium.

The Deputy Director was standing at the microphone, trying to get everyone’s attention as the guests slowly began to find their tables. The White Collar team took their places, right near the front; they were going to be called on to go up on stage at some point and they all eagerly took their seats and waited for the show to begin.

WCWCWC

Neal pushed back from the table, looking perfectly satiated and content. He rarely overindulged, be it with food or alcohol, but having a wonderful meal served on a silver platter along with an excellent bottle of Pinot Grigio had brought down his defences and had resulted in an uncharacteristic lack of self-control. The bottle sat almost empty by his side, all down to him, and that, coupled with the mild pain killers he’d been taking, had mellowed him out completely. Well, not _completely_ , he still had designs to move in voraciously on Sara the minute she gave him the signal – or before, if she didn’t hurry up and give him the goddamn signal.

As had been the case all night, she was a step ahead of him. She leered at him from across the table, her bare foot rubbing up and down his leg in a provocative invitation for him to go ahead and let loose. She loved Neal like this, relaxed, laid-back, without a care in the world. She mentally congratulated herself on giving him a fun evening after what he’d been through the night before and in lieu of what was rightly his – a chance to celebrate with the rest of the White Collar team. 

He watched, his eyes hooded, as she finally stood and silently slithered to his side of the table. He waited patiently in anticipation of her next move, still hanging on to a few measly shreds of self-control – even though they were fading fast. She stopped directly in front of him and watched as his eyes travelled up and down her body. He licked his lips lasciviously and bit his lower lip, willing himself not to make a move. She could see evidence of his struggle as she brought her eyes down below his waist – men were cursed with giving themselves away in that way and she smiled devilishly at the realization that Neal was holding on by a thread. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in a last ditch effort not to give in to his primal instincts, at least not yet. This little game was much too much fun to be rushed and when he opened his eyes again, he saw her take one last step towards him as she settled in his lap, straddling him and his arms instinctively reached out to pull her in. 

She looked intensely at him and he could tell she was having fun with their little game of cat and mouse. She leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead, then his eyelids, one by one, taking care to let her lips just barely flutter on his left eyelid. She could see his lips curling up into a lurid smile; he was enjoying the chase but she knew that he would fly off the handle any second now. His defences were down and she could feel his arms tightening around her waist as she brought her lips to gently kiss his mouth.

But gently wasn’t exactly what Neal had in mind and suddenly, his arms moved with lightning speed towards the opening of her dress as his lips slammed into hers. He’d been studying the hot little number all night, noticing how it was fastened to Sara’s amazing body and it had taken him all of two minutes to detect that it was one of his very favourite kind of dresses, the kind that came undone with one single tug of a wraparound tie. Again, Sara was a millisecond ahead of him and as his hand moved to the front of the dress, he found that hers was already there, pulling on the tie as the short little number fell open, revealing every inch of her spectacular body.

To his surprise, she’d been prancing around commando all evening and except for the tiniest little push up bra he’d ever laid eyes on, she was totally and gloriously naked. Neal let out a shivering breath, feeling the perfect storm of arousal and total abandon thanks to the bottle of Pinot and the remnants of the over the counter meds in his system. He was mellow... so mellow but not _too_ mellow to give her what she wanted and to show him what he needed. He brought his mouth to her breasts, tugging with his teeth to move that oh so cute bra out of the way, luxuriating in her round curves, teeth insistently nipping at her nipples as Sara made a most unladylike moaning sound that made him aware that his pants were way too tight around his burgeoning erection. He couldn’t help making a few thrusting motions before settling down to enjoy the moment, watching as Sara let her head drop back while he held her tightly to keep her from tumbling to the floor.

‘Look at you… you naughty little girl’ he whispered under his breath as she let out a throaty laugh.

From the sound of his voice and his uneven breathing, Sara knew he was oh so close to losing control. She was enjoying every moment of deconstructing Neal Caffrey, watching him come apart as she continued to play on his every fantasy. 

That was the fun part of getting to know a man – finding out what turned him on, what ultimately pushed him over the edge – and she planned to use every single shred of knowledge she’d gathered to give Neal what he needed and wanted. Her mind was clear and focussed but she was just as turned on as he was and when she felt him push up against her, she couldn’t hold on any longer and she instinctively began to rock back and forth as she threaded her hands roughly through his hair and kissed his mouth hungrily. 

Despite her intention to seduce him, she seemed to be losing traction; maybe _she_ would be the first to cry uncle in this silly little game they played - because at the moment, she didn’t seem to be in control at all.

Neal moved in to place a slow, seductive kiss on her perfectly round baby bump and he began rubbing and stroking it as he let out a long, unsteady breath; he loved her belly, touching it, caressing it, feeling it pressed up against his body. The sensation was almost too much and he forced himself to close his eyes for a moment to collect himself. Peaking too soon was not an option and he reminded himself that they had all night.

As much as Sara loved the sensation of his hands on her, her present state of arousal was getting the best of her and she found herself wishing Neal would let his hand wander south just a little as she struggled to keep it together a little while longer. More than anything, she wanted to see _him_ start to unravel and she opened her eyes, noticing him gazing back at her, his eyes dark and aroused, his breathing erratic. Despite her efforts to slow herself down, she was failing miserably and she felt Neal’s hands snake around her waist, his mouth beginning to roam again.

He made quick work of pulling off the bra, his lips returning to her soft, sensitive breasts, his warm mouth and wandering hands flittering from one breast to the other, urgently pinching, licking, nipping, biting, his movements frenzied, unable to settle for more than a few seconds as Sara continued to writhe against him, silently begging him to push her over the edge.

‘That feels… it feels…’ she moaned as her breath hitched.

Neal groaned as he buried his face once more between her swollen breasts, teasing with his tongue, his lips, his teeth, coaxing her along.

‘Awwww… awwww… Come on Caffrey…’ she shrieked as she began to move frantically against his hardness. He smiled in response and pulled back to admire the look on her face, so tense and unguarded.

There was a time when Sara Ellis could have exercised total control over her body but that ship had sailed when she’d gotten pregnant. Those pregnancy hormones were always bubbling right underneath the surface and Neal had discovered with delight that she could go from zero to sixty in record time these days - more importantly, he loved the fact that he was the one who could get her there. He continued moaning in her ear, bringing her to the very edge, his voice hoarse and his breath halting.

‘What is it baby… tell me what you want me to do…’ he murmured lustily, his hungry mouth travelling from her neck back up to her ear, his warm breath on her overheated skin driving her crazy, his roaming hands everywhere but there - where she desperately needed them to be. ‘Come on baby girl… tell me.’

He knew what the sound of his voice did to her in moments like this and he continued taunting her, his voice deep and gravelly. He was enjoying watching her squirm and shout gibberish as she neared what he expected would be the first of several explosive orgasms before the night was over. As far as his growing need for release, he could wait a little longer; watching Sara like this was just as gratifying and he watched in wonder as she continued to writhe against him, the sounds emanating from her lips growing louder and more urgent.

All she needed was a little push and she would come undone in an instant but _she_ was the one calling the shots and if she wanted to prolong the delicious agony a little while longer… well, Neal wasn’t complaining. He loved her like this, coming apart bit by bit in his arms and he waited for her to let him know she was ready to be pushed over the precipice. It wouldn’t be long now, he knew, and sure enough she stilled for a moment, shivering.

‘Dammit Neal! Touch me… Now!’ she finally managed to shout amongst all the unintelligible babble she’d been spouting.

‘Is this what you want baby girl? Huh? Is it?’ he murmured as he finally gave in to her breathless request, letting his hand snake down her beautiful belly and reach down between her long lean legs, fingers getting to work earnestly.

He watched in utter satisfaction as she finally exploded, unleashing a very unladylike tirade of expletives; for all her business acumen and usual decorum, Sara could swear like a drunken sailor when she lost control and Neal loved her like this, totally guileless and delirious with lust.

‘Yeah, there you go… there you go. I got you… I got you’ he murmured sensuously as he held her tight against his body, seeing her through to the very end of her orgasm. ‘That’s my girl.’

It was going to be a great night.

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

‘How was the salmon?’ Diana asked as she leaned in closer to Elizabeth so she could talk directly into her ear

The room was buzzing and it was becoming increasingly difficult to hear each other talk now that the main course was over and the rattling of the plates could be heard over the constant chatter. People had taken advantage of the break between courses to mingle as old friendships and affiliations were rekindled, often just for one night.

‘Good! What about the beef?’ El countered,

‘Best I’ve had in a long time’ Diana answered as her eyes roamed around the ballroom,

They could see Peter in the distance chatting with some blond woman as people came up to him from time to time with a handshake or a pat on the back.

‘Listen, Diana. This whole Neal thing... I thought we’d try to make it right. I was planning on having a dinner for him next weekend. Are you free to come?’ Elizabeth asked.

‘Yeah, of course’ Diana responded with uncharacteristic enthusiasm ‘That’s a great idea. Do you think Neal will be okay with it, though? It’s not exactly the type of attention he likes to get.’

‘I think it’ll be okay if we keep it small – ‘ El said before she was interrupted.

‘Hi Elizabeth’ the women heard over their shoulder as a young man swept in to collect their empty plates.

‘Jake!’ she exclaimed, recognizing the young man she’d hired on a couple of occasions to help with some of her catered events.

‘I thought I recognized you from across the room. You look beautiful tonight’ he said as he went about his work.

‘Thank you. Oh, Jake, I have a favour to ask’ El suddenly said, remembering her little dilemma. 

She’d snuck in their tiny video camera in her purse and she’d been wondering how she was going to pull off filming Peter’s speech and still be in the moment. It looked like the solution was standing right next to her.

‘When you’re done serving dessert, can you come and see me?’ she asked. 

‘Sure thing’ he said as he expertly finished clearing the table of dirty dishes and walked away

‘Who’s that woman Peter is talking to?’ El asked Jones.

She’d noticed Peter deep in conversation with the woman for the past few minutes.

‘I think she’s SSG’ Jones replied. 

‘SSG?’ El asked, curious.

‘Special Surveillance Group. Think of it as the ‘badass’ branch of the Bureau’ Diana chimed in, her voice in a loud whisper.

The clanging of silverware seemed to subside and the Deputy Director could be seen stepping up to the microphone urging everyone to return to their tables. Once dessert was served they’d be presenting the 10 year pins as well as a few retirement speeches followed by the special award. 

Peter made his way back to Elizabeth’s side and took his seat; he looked around at the smiling faces as his team settled in. They were a hard working bunch and they deserved to have this special night – especially Jones and Diana who had been steadfast by his side for going on five years now. He knew they were loyal and trustworthy and in a pinch, they could be counted on to take one for the team in order to get the job done. His mind wandered back to Neal, wondering what he was up to tonight; hopefully, he wasn’t moping around at home, feeling sorry for himself. He turned to look at his beautiful wife, realizing once again how lucky he was to have her in his life; he suddenly found himself wishing that Neal would have the same in the years to come.

WCWCWC

‘So, I guess that one goes to you...’ Sara murmured as she and Neal lay in bed, legs intertwined.

‘Naw, I think we should put a moratorium on that silly little game – at least until the baby’s born’ Neal said as he held his exhausted girlfriend in his arms.

Sara lifted her head to look into his eyes. ‘What? You don’t think I can hold my own?’ she asked, obviously miffed at the insinuation. As in all things, Sara Ellis was terribly competitive.

They’d been playing this silly little game over the past few months – a seduction game – and it was a lot more fun to play than it was to win. As a matter of fact, it was often more fun to lose and to be the first to give in; it meant your partner had somehow managed to totally bring down your defences. Of course, they only played the game every so often – whenever the mood struck – but they’d been having fun trying to ‘outseduce’ each other and the moment Neal had walked into the apartment earlier, observing Sara in full battle gear, he’d know the game was on.

‘I just don’t think we’re playing on a level playing field’ Neal said as he ran his hand longingly over Sara’s belly. ‘Those pregnancy hormones have messed with your mojo and made you putty in my hands’ he chuckled as he jostled her.

‘Oh yeah?’ she said as she playfully tried to wriggle out of his arms.

She didn’t try very hard and she settled back down in an instant, luxuriating in the warmth and strength of her boyfriend’s loving arms. She was exhausted from their little marathon and now, those amazing endorphins were just coursing through her veins, making her sleepy.

‘Thanks for tonight’ Neal whispered softly as he kissed her hair. ‘I had a great time... and it was a wonderful distraction.’

‘I guess I was pretty obvious, huh?’ she asked with a soft laugh.

Neal shrugged and grinned. ‘Let’s just say, I have no illusions that you’re going to start cooking on a regular basis – or that you’re going to start prancing around the apartment like that every night of the week’ he said softly.

For all the frenzied activity they’d just indulged in, the mood was now peaceful and introspective and he could sense Sara slowly beginning to slip away, sleep finally claiming her.

‘I love you, Repo’ he whispered in the quiet room.

‘Mmmm’ she replied, already half asleep.

‘Sleep tight, baby’ he added as he let out a satisfied sigh.

WCWCWC

It was going on ten o’clock, the wonderful crème brûlée long ago served and blissfully consumed and Peter’s team was beginning to get antsy. According to the program, this was it, the moment they’d all been waiting for. They all sat up a little straighter as they watched the Deputy Director step up to the microphone, as he introduced the Assistant Special Agent in Charge Reese Hughes to come up and announce the winners of the recipients of the ‘Team of the Year’ award. Peter watched as Reese rose from a nearby table and made his way up to the podium. He was looking older these days, a little more tired, a little more frail and a lot more jaded, and Peter wondered in passing how many more years he’d have the pleasure of working with his friend and mentor.

‘Good evening’ Reese said as he adjusted the microphone. ‘Welcome to New York, the city with the best and finest FBI field office in the country’ he said to the sounds of a few hollers from the audience.

‘Tonight, it is my honour to present the award for ‘Team of the Year’, an honour which goes to the team which has distinguished itself for its excellent work ethic and its outstanding results. All of us in this room know that no man is an island and that, especially in our business, you need to stand shoulder to shoulder with your colleagues. They are the ones who have your back when the going gets rough, the ones you can count on to get you out of the mess you suddenly find yourself in, the ones who share your disappointment when things go south and those you celebrate with when you finally bring down another cartel or career criminal. The team who is receiving this award tonight is an exceptional case in point and a demonstration of that unique camaraderie. I have seen their work first hand and I can attest to the fact that they represent all that is good with crime fighting in this country.’

The room grew quiet at Reese Hughes’ words; they seemed to resonate with everyone present.

‘This year, I am proud to announce that this very special honour goes to my white collar crime team, headed by Special Agent Peter Burke. As you know, a team is only as strong as its leader and Peter Burke is the epitome of great leadership: strong, steadfast, loyal, tough when necessary, caring when needed, a man who works collaboratively with others, bringing out the best in those he leads.’ 

The room began applauding again; Peter had a reputation within the Bureau as a straight shooter and everyone who’d crossed his path over the years appreciated his integrity and hard work. Elizabeth moved her hand and placed it in Peter’s; she was so very proud of him and all he’d accomplished.

‘Peter and his team have worked relentlessly to counter white collar crime here in New York City’ Reese continued. ‘They’ve dealt successfully with all types of criminal activity from mortgage fraud to money laundering to forgery and theft and they’ve managed to do it all with the highest closure rate in the country!’ he said, his voice culminating in a crescendo.

The room erupted in applause as he continued ‘An incredible 92% closure rate’ he said, his voice loud in order to be heard over the applause.

‘This is a team of dedicated individuals who have each other’s backs, who are innovative in their approach and who take risks in order to get the job done’ he continued as he thought briefly of Caffrey whom, he realized, fit that description perfectly.

‘So, without further ado, I’d like to introduce the head of our white collar division, my friend and colleague, Special Agent Peter Burke’ Reese said as the applause grew louder and people began to get on their feet to give Peter a standing ovation.

Peter stood and glanced proudly around the table at his team, turning briefly to look at Elizabeth who beamed at his side, applauding enthusiastically. She glanced briefly to the side of the room, noticing Jake standing there, camera in hand, ready to record the proceedings.

Peter took the few short steps to the podium as Reese welcomed him with a firm handshake and a collegial hug. Suddenly, Peter was being handed an award, a large glass object with the names of the members of his team engraved and he took a moment to admire it as the applause continued. He slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket and grabbed for the index cards he’d tucked away as he glanced down at El once more, noting her glowing face and watching as she wiped a tear.

‘Thank you. Thank you’ he repeated as he waited for calm to return so he could continue with his remarks.

Reese pulled away discretely, leaving Peter to stand in front of the microphone facing a roomful of colleagues and long-time friends. Peter’s long years with the Bureau had contributed to his impeccable reputation; he was known for being ‘no nonsense’, and telling it as it was and everyone knew he didn’t suffer fools gladly. That being said, he was a ‘company man’ and he had to spout the party line as they all did. Law enforcement was a damn tough career choice and everyone stuck together, through the good and the bad.

Peter looked down at his notes where he had jotted down the names of all those he wanted to thank. Although speaking in front of groups was by no means his favourite thing, it certainly wasn’t something he dreaded but he knew emotions would be running high on this particular night and he wanted to be politically correct and not forget to thank each of the bigwigs who had seen fit to honour him and his team.

‘I want to start by acknowledging our fine leadership, Mr. Director, Mr. Deputy Director, Mr. Assistant Deputy Director, thank you all for coming to New York for this dinner’ he began. 

He turned towards Reese who had taken his seat back at his table with his wife at his side.

‘Reese, you took the words right out of my mouth’ Peter said as he looked fondly at his boss ‘... when you said no man is an island. If my team has been successful, it is in large part due to the incredible support I’ve gotten from you and the wiggle room you’ve always given whenever I...’ he faltered for a moment, having gone off script. ‘... or one of my team comes up with a unorthodox way of tackling a case.’

His mind wandered back to Neal as it had been doing all night and he forced himself to concentrate. It was important that he do things right and that he do his team proud regardless of his disappointment in the way the Bureau had treated Neal. He took a deep breath and continued.

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

Peter stood at the podium looking down at the many faces in the audience, most of whom he’d known for over twenty years – some even longer, like Jill Stone who he’d just been chatting with; he’d known her since his days at Quantico. Then, there were the many collaborators from other departments he’d had the pleasure (or the misfortune) of working with on cases over the years, too many to count. His gaze washed over the head honchos’ table and for a fleeting moment his eyes met those of his mentor, Philip Kramer. His last encounter with him had been just that: the last encounter he would ever have with him. They hadn’t spoken since Neal’s escape to the island and Peter had no interest in rekindling that relationship; it had been irreversibly damaged and that was heartbreaking considering the important role the man had played in his life and the unwavering faith he’d had in him over the years.

He shook off the nostalgia and refocused on the smiling faces he’d left behind at his table: his loyal team and his beautiful wife who’d always been at his side. 

‘White Collar has sometimes been the butt of jokes over the years – seen as a junior department’ Peter continued. ‘Nothing exciting ever happens at White Collar’ - right! Well, let me tell you that we have our share of scary moments... a white collar criminal might be perceived as a non-violent offender but criminals are just as diverse in their way of carrying out their ‘jobs’ as all the rest of us. Some are gentlemen while others can be dangerous and in some cases, downright deadly... and my team has had to face them all over the years and be ready for just about anything. When I first came to White Collar, I expected a lot of long nights of surveillance, listening in as harmless crooks made plans behind closed doors... and there is a fair bit of that, I’ll admit’ he said as the crowd chuckled.

‘But the unpredictability of what we face everyday cannot be underrated’ he continued as he looked down at his notes. ‘... and I have the best team in the country sitting right there at that table. Each and every one of them is dedicated, fearless, smart and most importantly, tireless. When they get hold of something, they don’t let go and that dogged determination is what distinguishes a good team from a great team — the commitment to see things through to the end, regardless of the situation or the risk to one’s personal safety.’

The crowd listened, the room silent.

‘And sometimes, when all those pieces fall into place, magic happens’ he said, feeling emotion rising in his throat. 

He swallowed to give himself a few seconds to refocus. Peter loved his team, he loved working with each and every one of those dedicated men and women and he’d managed to cultivate a climate of trust within his ranks, an atmosphere that was the perfect balance between getting the task done and taking care of his people. Although he might be perceived at times as a taskmaster, he never forgot the human side of the equation and if one of his team was struggling with something in their personal life, Peter made it his business to find out and to offer any needed support. That was what made him an exceptional leader.

‘And this over here…’ Peter said looking fondly at the group assembled. ‘…is magic.’

Everyone applauded loudly and he watched as Diana let out a loud cat call whistle and Jones stood to clap enthusiastically. Peter put away his notes and smiled broadly at the crowd, basking in the moment.

WCWCWC

Neal pulled himself out of Sara’s arms and silently slipped out of bed. His face was throbbing again now that the wine and the meds he’d taken earlier were out of his system. He took a moment to gaze at Sara’s sleeping form; she was dead to the world. For the first time in a long time, he was feeling safe and content and he wondered how things had changed so fast and so dramatically in just a few, short months. 

Seven months ago, he’d been in Cape Verde, convinced that he would never return to everyone and everything he cared about in New York and now... well, now, he was preparing to become someone’s dad, the first time in his life when walking away was not an option. It was a scary proposition yet beyond exciting and not for the first time, he looked forward to holding this little human being in his arms – someone who would look up to him for everything from sustenance to security to advice. The thought was overwhelming yet the image of himself holding his son or daughter conjured up an overwhelming sense of serenity and well-being... definitely one of those mysteries of life. 

Regardless of her insecurities, Neal knew Sara would be a terrific mom; she was caring and loving... when she finally got out of her own way and just listened to her inner voice. He realized that, together, they would make a terrific team. He wondered what the future held for the two of them as a couple. She’d been staying with him since that terrible attack she’d suffered back in August and he was in no hurry to see her leave. They’d finally found a comfortable rhythm in their everyday lives and Neal hoped that they could make the living arrangements permanent - although they’d never really discussed it. Maybe he should let her know how he felt about her being around...

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, stopping to stare at her beautiful face for a moment. He let out a sigh and stood, heading to the bathroom in search of relief for his aching head.

WCWCWC

Peter had been struggling with his conscience all night. He knew that mentioning Neal in his remarks would be perceived as a slap in the face by the higher ups. They had made it clear that this commendation dinner was for the inner circle only and that civilians, particularly criminals still serving sentences, had no place in the festivities. Peter waited for the applause to fade and looked down at the award in his hand as he proceeded to read the names of each and every member of his team to everyone’s applause. He invited each member to stand to the applause of the entire room and watched with pride as they smiled broadly for the audience.

Once he’d named everyone, he stopped talking, staring at the trophy. He looked over at El for a brief instant and he thought he saw an imperceptible nod. He took the brief, barely noticeable motion as the sign he’d been waiting for all night.

‘You know, looking at the list of names on this beautiful trophy, I can’t help but notice that there is one name that is sorely missing’ he began as everyone held their breath.

Although it hadn’t been stated outright, Peter knew that any remarks about Neal would be unwelcome by the DC group. The fact that Reese had requested special dispensation to have Neal attend had made the rounds and everyone had an opinion on the subject although most who were in support of having the CI attend had been very discreet about their point of view. No one wanted to take an unpopular stance with the bigwigs, after all, they controlled everyone’s future including any future assignments and opportunities to rise within the Bureau’s ranks. 

But once he’d made up his mind, there was no turning back and Peter soldiered on, determined to be true to his principles.

‘Three years ago, we added a member to our team. He didn’t come through the normal channels, he didn’t have an orientation with HR and he sure as hell never set foot in Quantico but he’s become a valuable and important member of our team, nonetheless. His name is Neal Caffrey and he’s my CI. He came to us, at his initiative I might add, through an early work release program... from Sing Sing.’

Peter stopped for a moment to survey the crowd; everyone in the Bureau knew about the ex-con and his legendary contribution to the department’s ever increasing closure rate. Neal’s arrival had been controversial and the cynics had waited with bated breath for him to step over the line and be sent back to the slammer. But contrary to the dire predictions, three years later, Neal was still around and the White Collar Unit’s closure rate had continued to soar.

Peter could hear a kerfuffle happening at the DC table; they were probably discussing whether or not to interrupt Peter’s remarks although to do that would surely make them seem petty and mean spirited. Peter took their silence as permission to continue.

‘Neal’s contribution to the success of our team cannot be overstated. He’s one of the hardest working members of my team, he’s always the first to volunteer on undercover operations and when we’re sitting around brainstorming about how to approach a case, he’s always candid with his insights into the criminal world - which has contributed on many occasions to helping us catch the bad guys. Neal is an invaluable asset to the Bureau and has been since he set foot on the 21st floor of the Federal Building here in New York. Unfortunately, Neal was not invited to attend tonight and to be honest with you, I, myself, struggled with whether or not I wanted to be here in light of that decision. Neal Caffrey was a criminal; he was caught, charged and sentenced to four years in a federal penitentiary for bond forgery. He’s almost finished serving his time and soon, he will have fully paid his debt to society. No matter what Neal’s done in the past, he is a hard-working, caring individual who is an integral part of the White Collar Unit. Neal is now paying his dues, reintegrating mainstream society - often at great risk to his safety and wellbeing. Time and time again, he puts his safety on the line without a second thought if it leads to closing a case.... as a matter of fact, at times we’ve have to reel him in and keep him from doing something that could get him hurt or worse yet, killed.’

Peter glanced at Reese Hughes and continued, undaunted. He was on a roll.

‘Why, just last night, we closed a case at the Museum of Modern Art and Neal was injured in the takedown. With no regard for his personal safety, he kept his cover intact so we could interrupt the theft of a valuable painting. He could have blown his cover, perhaps even have given the thieves an opportunity to walk away but he chose to see it through and one of the thieves decided to introduce the grip of his gun to Neal’s face and late last night he and I were paying the ER a visit. Today, Neal is recuperating at home following his injury but that didn’t stop him from showing up this afternoon at our debrief session despite the fact that he was in severe pain. That’s the kind of man Neal Caffrey is, a fearless, committed individual who has been the driving force behind the team, pushing all of us to do our best. After all, if an ex-con can push himself to that extent, then all of us trained FBI agents should be able do the same. I regret that Neal wasn’t invited here tonight to share in our team’s achievement and I would never forgive myself if I didn’t mention his important contribution to the success of our team.’

Peter stopped suddenly. He’d gone far enough, probably much too far in the eyes of many. The silence in the room was deafening when suddenly, he heard a lone person clapping and he looked up to find Reese Hughes standing up to applaud his remarks. Suddenly, Diana, Jones, Elizabeth and the rest of the team were on their feet and Peter noticed Kimberly Rice standing as well as were a few of his colleagues here and there. Within seconds, most of the attendees were clapping in response to Peter’s impromptu comments and suddenly, he knew that despite the price he’d eventually have to pay for his little diatribe, it would have been well worth it.

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

The morning after was just that: the morning after. Peter and Elizabeth slept in late and now that Peter had taken a stance and done what he believed to be the right thing, he was feeling relieved and after a few restless nights, he’d fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

Over at the Ellis-Caffrey residence, Sara woke on Sunday morning with a smile on her face. Her mission to give Neal an enjoyable evening had been a success although she feared he might be worse for wear when he finally came to. She glanced over at his sleeping form, noticing the rainbow of colours on the left side of his face, and she winced in sympathy. She’d heard him get up a couple of times during the night but she hadn’t had the energy to do much more that mumble an incoherent ‘You ‘k?’ before turning over and going back to sleep. 

She got up without making a sound, gently peeling back Neal’s arm which was snugly wrapped around her waist and untangling herself from his long legs. He must have taken something for the pain because he barely moved when she finally got out of his grasp and she tiptoed to the back of the apartment and straight into the delightfully warm shower. She could feel a few lingering aches and pains but they were the ‘good’ kind, the kind that brought to mind the amazing sex they’d had the night before. She’d been insatiable and Neal had risen to the occasion before he’d finally given in to his own pressing needs, making love to her with his usual fervour and passion. She smiled to herself as she felt the now familiar flutter in her belly and she ran her hand lovingly across her baby bump in response. Over the past week, she’d noticed that her stomach had almost doubled in size and she thought back to just a week before when she was still trying to cram her expanding body into her regular wardrobe. It seemed like months ago... 

By the time she returned to the kitchen, she was dressed and ready to face the day. She grabbed the book she’d been reading and, in an effort to let her tired boyfriend recuperate from a busy couple of days, she tiptoed out of the apartment so he could sleep peacefully.

WCWCWC

Although by Monday morning, Neal was feeling much better, Peter had insisted he take the day off and Neal rose early, made breakfast for Sara and saw her off to work, thinking ahead to a whole day of doing whatever he pleased. Now that she was living at his place, for all intents and purposes, he was finding it difficult to keep things from her – and at the moment, he was hiding a huge surprise for her upcoming birthday. Whenever he could get away for an hour or so, he’d begun to work on a portrait of Sara and he looked forward to having the whole day to work on the painting which was tucked away in one of the bedrooms down on the second floor. It was a beautiful nude with her glorious pregnant belly on full display, Sara sitting with her body turned towards the light coming from the terrace, the placement of her body such that the outline of her breast was discreetly visible although her beautiful face and her baby bump were most definitely the main features of the portrait. 

He’d just finished showering and changing into some ‘work’ clothes when he heard the discreet knock on the door.

‘June!’ he exclaimed as he saw his landlady standing there with a tray of coffee and assorted pastries.

‘Good morning!’ she said. ‘Sara said you had the day off so I thought we could share a cup of coffee before you get started on your day.’ 

‘Ah, June! You read my mind’ Neal said as he took the tray from her and placed it on the nearby table.

The aroma of Italian Roast wafted in the air, pleasantly assaulting his senses; now that his head wasn’t constantly throbbing, he was slowly returning to enjoying life’s simple pleasures.

‘Well, I want to say you’re looking better...’ she began as she sat across from him and watched as he poured them each a cup.

He laughed. ‘I might not be looking better but I feel a lot better’ he insisted.

June let out a sigh. Over the years, her fondness for Neal had continued to grow and she hated to think of him out there taking unnecessary chances with his safety, especially now that there was a baby on the way.

‘Sara looks well. Pregnancy really suits her’ she said as she looked into Neal’s eyes.

With time, she’d conquered her initial reservations about the insurance investigator and her place in Neal’s life. She could see the love and devotion in his eyes every time he looked at Sara; hell, all she had to do was utter the young woman’s name and Neal’s eyes became dreamy and unfocussed, a sure sign that he was really falling for her and that this was the real thing. 

‘You know, June, having kids wasn’t even on my radar a few short months ago and now... well, now I just can’t wait to see our beautiful little baby and hold him in my arms’ he said wistfully. 

‘Babies do have that effect on us’ June agreed, thinking back to her babies and grandbabies. ‘They’re so tiny and vulnerable and they count on us for every little thing...’

She watched as Neal’s mind seemed to wander ahead to the future and she saw a shadow of doubt cloud his eyes. She reached out to touch his hand.

‘You’re going to be a wonderful father, Neal’ she said, surmising his thoughts.

He looked at her and shrugged. ‘I want to be... I want to give this baby everything I didn’t have’ he said, his voice quiet. ‘I just don’t want to mess this up.’

June thought of Byron, how he’d struggled their whole married life with doing the right thing. He’d been in jail when their girls were little and when he’d finally been released, he had vowed to her and their daughters that he would never falter again. And he never had.

‘You’ll do what’s right, darling. I know you will’ June said, squeezing his hand.

Neal looked up to see the kindness and understanding in June’ eyes and nodded, but somehow, the insecurity lingered and he gave her one of his patented Caffrey smiles to try to cover it up.

WCWCWC

‘El, you promised...’ Sara said into the phone from her office.

She held the phone precariously against her ear as she finished typing up an e-mail all the while waving to Eileen who was standing in the doorway, letting her know her next appointment was scheduled to arrive.

‘Please’ she pleaded to her friend ‘...no bells and whistles, just a nice meal.’

She could see Elizabeth’s face in her mind’s eye, trying to refrain from going over the top with this dinner party and turning it into a major production. With Neal in the dark, it was up to Sara to make sure the evening didn’t turn into a circus, something she knew he would absolutely hate.

‘All right, I promise’ she heard El say, somewhat reluctantly.

‘And another thing, I’ve decided to tell him ahead of time’ Sara added.

There was silence on the other end. Sara knew that Elizabeth had hoped to keep it a surprise but she knew better; Neal would not appreciate being blindsided in this situation, of that she was certain.

‘Fine’ El said, giving in. For years, she and Peter had always done what they thought was in Neal’s best interest and they’d never been challenged by anyone; now, there was another important person in Neal’s life who also wanted what was best for him and they didn’t always see eye to eye although El was learning to respect Sara’s place in Neal’s life.

‘And Elizabeth... thanks for doing this. It’s a lovely gesture and I know Neal will appreciate it’ she said before hanging up.

Standing up to Elizabeth Burke wasn’t always easy and despite the fact the Burkes had been watching over Neal for the past few years, she was his significant other now and she needed to step up to the plate and do what she thought was best for him just as he’d been doing for her. There was a knock on the door and Sara looked up.

‘Your ten o’clock is here’ Eileen said.

WCWCWC

The rest of the week came and went without the excitement of the previous week. Neal was glad to be back at work and his headaches eventually vanished just as his colourful face began to fade, returning him to his previous Caffrey good looks. He resumed reading through boring mortgage fraud cases - which were always plentiful - and managed to fill the hours while the team waited for some juicy case to come along.

There was some lingering talk about the commendation dinner, the usual water cooler discussions about who’d been wearing what, who’d said what and who’d had too much to drink and made an ass of him or herself. Of course, Peter’s little speech had people talking – certainly not as much as it had gotten tongues wagging in DC but Reese and Peter hadn’t yet heard a single word of reprimand from Washington. They carried on, waiting for the other shoe to drop; the bigwigs might choose to ignore his little diatribe for the time being but Peter had no doubt that his little outburst would come back to bite him in the ass at some point in the future, probably when he was least expecting it. 

Although Neal hadn’t been told about Peter’s little tirade, he’d noticed, on a couple of occasions, that his co-workers were eyeing him with... what was that? envy? admiration? wonder? whenever he stepped into a room. He shrugged it off, thinking nothing of it; after all, Neal was used to having eyes turn his way whenever he entered a room – as a matter of fact, he’d be disappointed if he didn’t have that effect on people.

After dinner on Thursday night, he and Sara sat, curled up on the couch, with her feet up on his lap and his hands just within reach of her ever expanding belly. He sat there, rubbing her tired feet, letting his hand wander every once in a while to lovingly stroke her belly as he smiled stupidly.

‘Six more days...’ he said dreamily as he looked over at Sara and stroked her baby bump – again.

She looked at him, unsure for a moment what he was talking about and he gave her a baffled look.

‘The ultrasound!’ he said, as if it were a no-brainer.

‘Oh, right!’ she said, suddenly remembering their medical appointment.

Although she’d had an ultrasound after her placental abruption, Neal had been undercover at the time and he’d missed all the excitement. He was looking forward to seeing the baby on the monitor and walking away with a picture of their bundle of joy. His eyes sparkled as he spoke.

‘And we’ll finally know if Boo-boo is a boy Boo-boo or a girl Boo-boo’ he said mischievously, knowing full well her loathing of the nickname he’d been teasing her with for the past few weeks.

‘There will be NO Boo-boo, Caffrey’ she said as she shooed his hand away. 

He laughed heartily; he loved teasing Sara. It was easy to get her going; her eyes got all wide and bright and the ordinarily laid back mom-to-be would become animated as he watched in amusement.

She’d been putting off telling him about the dinner, uncertain how he would react but she didn’t want him walking into the Burkes without a clue as to what was going on. The dinner was in two days and she decided she’d waited long enough; someone was going to spill the beans eventually if she didn’t come clean – better he hear about it from her.

‘Did I mention that Peter and El invited us over for dinner Saturday night?’ she asked nonchalantly, easing into the subject.

‘You did not’ he said as he bent down to kiss her belly, not really listening to what she was saying.

‘Yeah, you know, after the commendation dinner... Peter and Elizabeth wanted to do something special for you...’ she added, letting her voice trail.

He looked up, confused. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked as his eyes met hers.

‘Well, Peter was really upset about you not being there and he wanted to have a few people over to... you know,... sort of... recognize your contribution to the team’ she said hesitantly.

Now that she was saying the words out loud, they sounded lame and she looked down for a moment, fearing Neal’s reaction.

‘Wow, that’s nice...’ he said simply before he frowned.

‘This isn’t going to be a major production, is it?’ he asked. He knew Elizabeth Burke’s penchant for elaborate soirées and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be at the centre of one of them.

Sara looked into his worried eyes. ‘El promised she’d keep it on this side of extravagant. She has invited a couple of people from the office, though’ Sara said, trying to sound reassuring.

‘I’m not going to have to make a speech or anything, am I?’ Neal asked, suddenly concerned.

‘I doubt it’ she said running her hand through his hair and smiling at him.

‘Okay...’ he finally said, seemingly reassured as to the magnitude of the dinner party. ‘That sounds nice actually.’ 

Sara gazed at his face, relaxed once more, and without another word, Neal returned to the business at hand, which was to place another loving kiss on her belly.

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

Sara swatted decisively at the annoying tickle on her nose and was rewarded by a loud ‘Ouch!’ as she squinted, finally opening her eyes and letting in some unwelcome light. She was greeted by the sight of Neal Caffrey, leaning over her, eyebrows knitted and hand frantically rubbing his nose.

‘I thought I would wake you... gently’ he said as he finally recovered from the unexpected blow and began to laugh softly.

‘Sorry... I thought you were a fly’ she answered, laughing herself.

‘A fly?’ Neal responded ‘Seriously? On November 12th... in the apartment?’ Neal teased as he propped himself up on his elbow.

She reached up and, in an effort to make amends for her inadvertent attack on her boyfriend, she placed a gentle kiss on the tip of Neal’s nose - which he gratefully accepted.

Sara lifted her head and looked over at the easel she had insisted Neal pull closer to their bed before they’d finally turned in for the night. She’d wanted to fall asleep with the light on, staring at her amazing birthday gift. Neal scrutinized her face, watching as it relaxed, her eyes dreamy just like they’d been the night before when he’d unveiled the portrait he’d so lovingly worked on for the last couple of weeks. 

‘You like it?’ he asked for the umpteenth time.

She rolled her eyes at him and slapped his arm playfully. ‘Didn’t I tell you – or should I say show you – just how much I loved it last night?’ she said, her face bright and warm.

Neal gazed over at his girlfriend fondly; after he’d surprised her with dinner at her favourite restaurant, they had come home for dessert which Neal had prepared ahead of time and squirrelled away from Sara’s prying eyes. They’d walked in to find the painting prominently displayed on an easel by the doors leading out to the balcony - just the way Neal had asked and compliments of Mozzie. Sara had been amazed by its simple beauty, the emotions of the mom-to-be perfectly captured by the artist who obviously knew his subject very well. Although, in the past, Neal had often sketched her as they sat around, he had never painted her and she was stunned by the beauty of it, unpretentious and so obviously full of intense emotion. 

After feeding each other bites of delectable crème caramel, they had moved to the bedroom and Sara had insisted Neal bring the easel closer to the bed so she could fall asleep gazing at it. They had made love tenderly, leisurely, attentively – nothing like the frenzied lovemaking from the week before. Neal’s touches had been tentative, his hands lingering on Sara’s body as if he were exploring it for the very first time, treating it like the temple that it was, the sacred place where their unborn child was safely secreted away, invisible to the naked eye yet so real and so loved. Neal had spent a long time kissing Sara’s belly, talking to her, whispering in her ear, murmuring what it meant to him to have her carrying their cherished baby in her womb, safe from harm, a secret shared by just the two of them. They were united in this amazing adventure that no one else would ever experience and they had fallen asleep, their limbs tangled, whispers of love and longing floating in the air. 

‘Is this really how you see me?’ she asked as her eyes returned to the beautiful painting.

He had captured her face looking calm and serene, staring off in the distance, her hand strategically placed across her breast, resting on her belly – a little larger than it was at the moment – her copper hair softly cascading over her naked shoulder, glistening in the late day sun.

‘Yeah... it is’ he said softly, almost embarrassed at the intensity of the feelings the painting elicited in him.

‘It’s just... it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Neal’ she said, getting emotional all over again, just as she had the night before.

‘You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen’ he said as he pulled her close, cradling her against his chest.

‘Thank you’ Sara said, her voice shaky. ‘That was the best birthday I’ve ever had.’

As a child, Sara had had to contend with very rational parents who’d shunned sentimentality and she still struggled at times with sharing her life with someone who lived fully through his emotions and through his senses; an artist, a lover of life, someone who made her feel like she was the only one who mattered on the face of the earth. 

Neal smiled; mission accomplished.

WCWCWC

Elizabeth Burke buzzed around her home excitedly, as she always did in the last few hours before a dinner party. A casual observer might think she was miserably stressed out and frazzled – which she was, except for the ‘miserably’ part. She loved the tension and nervousness that fluttered in her stomach as she put the finishing touches on a special evening; she did it for a living and it was always gratifying, all the more when she was doing it all for someone she cared about. 

Peter scurried in and out of sight, taking instructions from Elizabeth, trying to stay out of her way as much as possible. He was always responsible for having the appropriate beverages on hand for their little soirées, making sure they had everyone’s favourites drinks. In this case, she had sent him out to get six bottles of Château Neuf du Pape, Neal’s favourite wine. She wanted this night to be special for her husband’s CI, down to the minute details and that included favourite foods and libations. 

Peter walked through the living room, noticing El had rearranged some of the furniture, including the television set which had been placed in view of all those who would be seated around the room. He cringed as he thought back to the video from the night of the commendation dinner. Elizabeth wanted to share the footage with Neal so he could hear for himself the words of appreciation and the attendees’ reactions to Peter’s comments that night. Although Peter stood by everything he’d said in that moment of lucidity, he had gone off-script in his remarks and emotions had gotten the better of him as he’d touted Neal’s considerable talents. He hated to think of Neal Caffrey having that ammunition to use as he pleased at the drop of a fedora, which he knew Neal would definitely do at some point in the not too distant future. Neal would undoubtedly be touched by the sentiments expressed in the video and he’d be appropriately humbled and modest as everyone congratulated him but, let’s face it, this was Neal Caffrey, and in the blink of an eye, he would return to his boastful, arrogant, conceited self – undoubtedly eager to use this volatile information to gain favour with his handler.

‘Honey, did you put the beer in the fridge?’ came El’s voice snapping him out of his reverie.

‘Yeah...’ Peter answered, unfocussed. ‘Honey, are you sure we should show Neal that video, maybe I can just make a few comments instead...’

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her husband; he didn’t get to weasel out of this.

‘Agent Burke, you need to stand by what you said last week’ she admonished, wagging a finger in his direction.

Peter made his way to the kitchen where El was working on her famous mini-quiches.

‘I do... I do but... you know Neal, he’s...’ he began. 

‘I do know Neal and he’s an amazing, sensitive man and he’ll be very touched by the wonderful words you shared with everyone at the dinner’ she said. 

‘Yeah... yeah, he’s sensitive but... he’s also arrogant’ Peter reminded her.

Elizabeth gave her husband the evil eye. ‘You two have to learn to accept that you care very much for each other... despite your differences’ she said, eyes locked on his. ‘You’re not perfect either, honey...’ she said as she ran her hand down his cheek. ‘You’re just going to have to live with it when Neal inevitably gloats about what you said – anyway, everybody else heard it, don’t you think the very man you were talking about should hear what you had to say for himself?’

Peter looked sideways at her; she was right, of course, but that didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t looking forward to Neal’s smugness in the not too distant future. 

‘Did you stop by the sports’ shop?’ she asked, changing the subject.

‘No. I’m doing that now’ he answered, realizing he’d lost the battle. ‘Do you need anything else while I’m out?’ 

‘Did you talk to Reese?’ she asked.

‘Yup. All set’ he said as he absentmindedly patted Satchmo’s head on the way to grab the car keys.

Elizabeth Burke walked over to where her husband stood and she could see the uncertainty in his eyes. 

‘Honey, just try to enjoy the evening’ she said as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. ‘Don’t forget we’re doing this for Neal.’

WCWCWC

‘Are you sure you’re telling me everything you know about this dinner?’ Neal asked as he checked out his reflection in the full length mirror by the bed.

He was wearing one of Byron’s suits, a favourite of his in a dark shade of grey. Sara walked up behind him, her arms moving around his waist as she fussed with his tie clip.

‘I swear... full illumination’ she said as he turned to face her.

To Neal’s delight, she’d graduated to another set of clothes, a little looser this time in order to accommodate her burgeoning belly; there was no mistaking that she was a ‘pregnant lady’, looking resplendently radiant in a new dress in a gorgeous shade of burnt orange. The colour brought out the flicker of green in her eyes and the wonderful shade of copper in her hair which she uncharacteristically had in an ‘up do’, making her look stylish and elegant, almost regal. 

‘You look beautiful!’ Neal gushed as he turned to face her, his arms laced around her waist, baby safely tucked between them.

‘Thank you’ she said demurely as she touched the side of his face and stared into his eyes. ’... and you look very handsome.’ 

‘So... no surprises tonight?’ he asked again.

He hated being blindsided and although he thought that Peter and Elizabeth’s gesture was very kind and considerate, he didn’t want to be put in a situation where he’d feel self-conscious or uncomfortable.

‘Neal, this is Elizabeth we’re talking about. Of course, there’ll be surprises. But none that I’m aware of... it should be just us, the Burkes, Jones, Diana and Christie and June and Mozzie’ Sara said as she smoothed Neal’s tie and looked deep into his eyes.

Except for some lingering redness in his left eye, Neal’s face had returned to normal, the bruising and swelling on his face all but disappeared. The blood surrounding the baby blue of his left cornea was still jarring to look at but Neal had been reassured by the ophthalmologist that the bleeding would slowly dissipate over time. Thankfully, there had been no permanent damage to his eye or his eyesight. Neal watched as Sara’s gaze was drawn to the hyphema and he smiled to reassure her.

‘It doesn’t hurt. Stop worrying’ he said as he smiled to make light of her concern.

‘Neal, I don’t want anything to happen to you’ she said, suddenly emotional as she pulled him into an urgent hug.

‘Nothing’s going to happen to me’ he said reassuringly rubbing her back and holding her close.

He pulled away, staring into her glistening eyes, seeing the love and worry there; it was nice to have someone in your corner, no matter what. He ran his hand lovingly against her cheek and smiled  
back at her. 

It didn’t get any better than this; he was walking into a lovely dinner party surrounded by the people he cared about with the woman he loved on his arm. 

What could there possibly be not to love.

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

There was a time when Elizabeth Burke’s most fervent wish had been to have a houseful of kids: the inevitable chaos, the incessant noise, the echoinglaughter, the wonderful sibling rivalries. But alas, fate had intervened and her life had taken another path and so, over the years, she’d had to make do with having a houseful of happy guests - which she was happy to do every chance she got. 

She puttered around the kitchen, on this Saturday evening in early November, getting the last of the appetizers plated up as she took a moment to glance into the living room, taking in the smiles and happy faces of her guests, all intent on enjoying the moment.

‘So, quite a bit less formal than last week, huh?’ Jones said as he elbowed Diana whose drink sloshed around in her hand.

‘Yeah, I much prefer this kind of get-together – and I get to bring Christie along’ she said, spying her girlfriend in deep discussion with Mozzie and June.

‘I thought spouses were welcome last week. Why didn’t you bring her _then_?’ he asked.

Diana gave him an eye roll.‘I just don’t feel the need to publicize my private life to every bigwig in Washington and unfortunately, homophobia is still alive and well - despite what people would have you believe’ she said, a touch of sadness in her voice. 

Jones gave her a shoulder shrug; he’d never thought twice about the fact that Diana was in a same-sex relationship and it hadn’t crossed his mind that others might.

‘Hey, you two!’ Peter’s voice interrupted. ‘Can I freshen up your drinks?’

‘I’m good’ said Diana as she looked around. ‘Still no sign of Neal?’

‘We told him to get here by seven; you know... so he could make an entrance’ Peter said.

‘Ah’ said Jones ‘now, _that_ sounds like Caffrey.’

WCWCWC

Neal rushed over to the other side of the taxicab to open the car door for Sara; he’d always been a gentleman and he always would be. He didn’t have very many fond memories of his mom but if there was one thing she’d managed to instil in him over the years, it was to respect women and be courteous at all times.

He took Sara’s hand as she stepped out onto the curb and he admired her grace and beauty, once more. She always looked amazing – no matter what she wore – and he had a fleeting flash forward to how she might look in the delivery room, having their baby. Would she be in a designer hospital gown and most importantly, would she be wearing four inch heels? 

He shook off the amusingly random thought and returned to the present and those insistent butterflies in his stomach which he’d begun to notice on the cab ride over. This was an informal get together at the Burkes in whose home he’d had dinner countless times and he was surrounded by people he cared about and who cared about him; what was there to be apprehensive about? As if on cue, Sara spotted the fleeting look of discomfort in his eyes as she took his hand in hers.

‘You okay, Caffrey?’ she asked with a reassuring smile.

‘Yeah, yeah’ he said a little too quickly to be truly sincere.

‘It’s going to be a great evening, you’ll see. Just relax and enjoy it, okay?’ she said with a wider smile hoping to convince him everything would be all right.

His smile broadened and seemed a little more genuine this time and he took a deep cleansing breath and reached over to close the car door behind Sara. Being the centre of attention was great when you controlled the situation but for all his arrogance and airs of self-importance, deep down, Neal was insecure about his many talents and it felt strange to draw attention to something that had always come naturally to him. 

The couple made their way up the steps to the house, hands clasped together and Neal thanked his lucky stars once again that Sara was on his side; he wasn’t alone anymore.

WCWCWC

The meal was amazing, as always.Elizabeth had pulled out all the stops and June had raved about the cauliflower salad, wanting the recipe so her staff could prepare it for her next bridge club meeting. Everyone chatted loudly, laughter echoing through the Burke home as the small, close knit group of friends enjoyed each others’ company and the excellent food. Mozzie was spouting his usual doomsday scenarios and conspiracy theories as June listened patiently to her friend. Jones, seated on the other side of Mozzie, wasn’t as generous and he steadfastly countered every single one of the conman’s outlandish assumptions, unable or unwilling to let Mozzie’s paranoia get the better of him. 

As always, El was the consummate hostess and she presided over the feast, sitting at the head of the table with Peter directly to her right. His main duties included helping to serve the meal and keeping everyone’s glass filled with the wonderful wine he’d bought. Diana and Christie sat, side by side, chatting with Sara about some art gallery opening they’d been to and Neal was seated next to his girlfriend, taking it all in from the sidelines, enjoying the sight of the motley crew who had very little in common with each other except for their individual connections to him.

He glanced around the table, realizing that through some bizarre, (divine?) intervention, this diverse group of individuals had somehow become his extended family. When he’d convinced Peter to let him work with the Bureau four years earlier, it had all been a con and originally, he’d had no intention of sticking around to fulfill his commitment to the FBI. He’d figured he and Mozzie would make quick work of the anklet and that they would take off after Kate, resuming their previous life of crime which had been so rudely interrupted by his impromptu stay in prison. Little had he known back then that Peter, Elizabeth, June and later Sara would all factor in his eventual transformation – a journey he hadn’t planned for nor had he realized he’d wanted in the first place. Now, he couldn’t walk away if he tried – his emotional ties with these amazing people were rock-solid and he had a life in New York that he never wanted to leave behind.

By the time the meal ended, Elizabeth directed everyone’s attention to the large screen television which had been placed for everyone to see. Neal glanced nervously at Sara, wondering what that was all about and she reached over, under the table, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it for good measure. As Peter rose to cue up the footage, there were the usual sarcastic comments from Jones and Diana about Peter’s lack of prowess with all things electronic and before you knew it, the screen came alive revealing the goings-on at the Baccarat Hotel one short week before. 

Peter was standing at a podium and after some polite applause from the audience, he could be heard talking about his wonderful team, their many virtues and their unwavering commitment to getting the job done. Neal smiled as he listened to Peter speak. He shared the same respect for the men and women he worked with; they had covered his ass on many an occasion and they made going to work each day a more pleasant experience than it had a right to be.

When Peter had finished talking and had put away his speaking notes, Neal’s heart sank briefly as he realized that he hadn’t been there to share in that moment and that he would always be on the periphery of this wonderful group of people he worked with every day. He tried to shake off the melancholy and he looked over at Peter who was smiling at him, seemingly having picked up on the fleeting sadness in his CI’s eyes. Neal covered up his dejection with a quick smile back but it didn’t fool Peter who could see that the Bureau’s snub had hurt Neal deeply and had inadvertently fed into his relentless insecurities about his place as a bona fide member of the White Collar Unit.

After the applause had died down, Neal noticed that Peter remained standing at the podium staring thoughtfully at the award he’d just been handed as if he were in a daze. Neal recognized the statuette in Peter’s hands - he’d noticed it right away, sitting proudly on the mantle in the Burke living room when he’d walked in earlier. It was made of clear glass, a statuette in the shape of the FBI logo and he could see some engraving on it, the names of the team members, he surmised. He returned his attention to the screen as Peter began to speak once again. 

Neal watched and listened, his eyes wide as Peter mentioned his name, commenting on the fact that a very important member of their team wasn’t among the names listed on the award and Neal returned his gaze to his partner with a questioning look. Peter smiled back and gave Neal a head nod towards the monitor, urging him to keep watching. As Peter spoke of his CI and his invaluable contribution to their team, Sara could sense Neal’s hand beginning to relax in hers as a genuine smile began to light up his face. The more Peter talked, the wider Neal’s smile got and try as he might to act blasé about it, by the time Peter had finished talking, Neal just couldn’t keep from grinning from ear to ear.

The hotel ballroom and the Burke living room grew quiet as Peter finally stopped speaking and suddenly, the sound of a lone person applauding could be heard over the silence at the Baccarat hotel. The camera which had been recording Peter’s speech, jerked as it followed the sound of the applause trying to find the person who was now clapping enthusiastically. Neal watched in surprise as the video camera searched the room and stopped on Reese Hughes who was standing, alone, clapping in support of Peter’s latest remarks. Before long, the applause had spread and Neal watched as others in the ballroom began to stand. 

Suddenly, he realized that the dinner guests were _also_ standing from their places at the Burke table, applauding loudly and turning towards Neal as he sat there in shock. Sara let go of his hand and stood beside him to join everyone in their enthusiastic standing ovation as Neal sat there, his mouth agape, struggling to take it all in.

As the applause began to fade, there was a decisive knock at the front door and Peter was up in a flash to answer – almost as if he’d been expecting it.

‘Are you expecting any more guests?’ June asked as she turned to her hostess.

Before Elizabeth could answer, the door opened revealing Reese Hughes standing in the doorway, looking relaxed in dress pants and a shirt; not the usual stiff suit the team was used to seeing him in every day.

‘Is this a good time?’ he asked as he made his way into the living room.

‘ _Perfect_ timing!’ Peter responded as everyone stood to greet the newcomer.

Neal exchanged a puzzled look with Jones who seemed just as stunned as he was to see their boss appear in the middle of a social affair but El and Peter didn’t look the least bit surprised as Reese was ushered in. He shook hands with everyone and when he finally made it over to where Neal stood, he put out his hand in greeting.

‘Caffrey!’ he said in his usual gruff manner.

‘Sir’ Neal said as he shook his hand.

Reese’s eyes moved to the woman standing next to the ex-con and Neal’s gaze followed, realizing introductions might be in order.

‘Sir, I believe you know Sara Ellis’ Neal said as he turned towards his girlfriend.

‘Sterling Bosch, right? Yes, I believe we’ve met’ Hughes said, taking Sara’s outstretched hand.

‘I understand congratulations are in order’ he continued as he looked from Sara to Neal.

Neal put his arm protectively around Sara’s shoulder and beamed proudly. ‘Yes sir, we’re expecting a baby at the end of March’ Sara explained with a proud smile.

Reese didn’t say anything but nodded approvingly and nodded at the happy couple.

‘Caffrey, I wanted to stop by and tell you in person that the Bureau is very proud of the work you’ve done since you’ve been with us. You’ve shown us that you’re willing to take on some tough cases and see them through to the end’ he said.

‘Thank you sir’ Neal said as he listened to the older man’s praise.

‘Now, I don’t want you to get too big for your britches, Caffrey’ Hughes warned, his voice growing serious. ‘You still have a ways to go before you finish your sentence but I wanted you to know that we appreciate your hard work and we thank you for your service to the Bureau.’

Neal smiled and thanked him again, noticing Peter grinning out of the corner of his eye.

‘Now, if you’ll excuse me. My wife will have my head if I don’t get back to the car in time to make it to the opening act of La Bohème’ he said as he rolled his eyes and shook his head – obviously not his choice of outing.

He bid everyone a good night and was gone in an instant, leaving Neal and the rest of the guests bewildered.

‘Wow!’ Neal said as he made his way over to Peter. ‘Didn’t see that one coming.’

‘Thought you might appreciate hearing how much you’re respected by everyone at the Bureau’ Peter said. ‘... well, everyone that matters that is’ he added with a wink.

Neal, Mr. Silvertongue, seemed at a loss for words and he just kept staring at Peter, obvious gratitude in his eyes. He could feel himself becoming emotional and to avoid embarrassment and in true Caffrey style, he attempted a deflection, turning towards the mantle nearby.

‘So, this is the famous award!’ Neal said, changing the subject.

‘It is’ Peter said as he watched Neal carefully examining the statuette.

‘This is nice Peter, you should keep it in – ‘

He stopped suddenly, his eyes glued to the award in his hand and he gazed up at Peter who was grinning widely, raising his eyebrows as he waited for some sort of reaction to what Neal had just discovered.

‘But... aren’t you going to get in trouble for this?’ Neal finally asked as he ran his hand over the plate with the name ‘Neal George Caffrey, confidential informant’ engraved.

‘Naw. I’m already in enough trouble as it is. This is staying in the New York office anyway’ he said casually although Neal knew full well Peter was going out on a limb for him.

‘Thanks Peter’ Neal finally said, decidedly choked up.

Peter reached out to give his CI a hug. ‘Well deserved, Neal, well deserved!’

La fin


End file.
